


You Know Where This Train Will Take You (But You Can't Know For Sure)

by captainsmeesh



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Inception (2010), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky the Shade, Clint and Natasha banter like an old married couple, Clint the Point Man, Dark!Steve, Erik Selvig is kind of an asshole, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hydra, Kinda, Loki the Mark, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Natasha the Forger, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve & Hydra, Steve is a complete asshole, Steve is the sassiest person on earth, Steve the Extractor, Strike Team, Tags will be updated, Thor the Tourist, Tony the Architect, Veteran Bucky, Veteran Clint, hidden references, i dunno what im doing, ive edited too much already, little bit, shrinkyclinks, suicide TW, tell me if its good?, uh oh spaghettios
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsmeesh/pseuds/captainsmeesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers and Co. have an agreement to infiltrate the competition's mind, through dreams, to become a free man again.<br/>Avengers/Inception AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't write for shit, but I hope you guys like this. Also, it might be my longest work (so far).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers and Co. take a crazy job so he can become a free man again. Will it work?   
> Avengers/Inception AU

The one thing Steve Rogers gets criticized for is his physical appearance: 5’5 and 100 pounds soaking wet. That’s all people on the street see, not his blue eyes, long lashes, pink lips, and his golden hair. Not to mention his voice- something Bucky loved. Bucky also loved Steve’s witty remarks and his intelligence, which got him in this business anyway. It still hurts Steve to this day, how he couldn’t stop Bucky from dying. He relives it almost every day, his own deafening screaming drowned out by howling wind.

“Get out of your trance, Rogers. Thinking of him all the time won’t bring him back,” Clint says, stepping up to the window Steve’s been blankly staring out of for the past five minutes. “Need a clear mind to gather information, right? Everything will be fine. Now, we have a train to catch.” Clint Barton is Steve’s ‘Point Man’, his right-wing man. He’s the one who closely observes the subject and their projections, to gather information, to make sure everything goes smoothly; to find a job that will help Steve become a free man again. The only reason he’s not at the moment is because he’s a wanted man. Authorities think he killed Bucky. That Steve killed the love of his life.

They arrive at the train station, and see a young woman with brown hair and bright red lips, Darcy Lewis, their administrator for the “dream-machine” as Clint calls it, in memory of his Challenger. One of the men is average-sized with blonde hair and a crooked scowl, named Gilmore Hodge, and Steve scowls at Clint, since they both know that Steve has a knack for trying to beat up bad-guy looking types like Hodge. However, they need him, as their architect for this job. The man they’re going to get their first bit of information from is a very, very large man with shoulder-length blonde hair, scruff, and bright blue eyes. This Scandinavian man is the head of Odinson Engineering, Thor. He’s now against Laufeyson Engineering, the world’s leading energy company. Their client doesn’t know it yet, but the only reason that they’re going into a dream with him is to find a secure job.

Once the train has been moving for half an hour, Steve, Clint, and Thor insert the IV from the dream-machine, get comfortable, and Steve gives a nod to Darcy, who pushes the yellow button on the machine, sending them into Steve’s mind, sharing a dream that’s set in a new place, looks like the Middle East, maybe Afghanistan, Hodge already sitting at the table in the front room. Clint explains to Thor that they must enter a new dream. He isn’t hesitant to lay on the bed and be inserted into the next layer of the dreamscape. Neither Hodge nor Thor speak up on Steve’s new appearance: 6’2 and 150 pounds heavier, mostly in muscle. The perfect soldier.

Bucky loved him as he was, even though Steve got sick way too much than an average person, and got in way too many fights with guys the size of him now. Bucky loved how even though Steve was small in the real world, how he looked so fragile, that he was such a bully in bed (the nice kind, if that was even possible), that Steve and his skinny body was Bucky’s whole world.

Steve and Clint set up the second dream-machine in the bathroom, Clint sitting in a chair, while Steve sets one up over a bathtub filled of hot water, to let Clint give him the ‘kick’-what brings you back from your current dream. They get set up again, and Hodge pushes the button once more, and retakes his vantage point at the table. After they’re subdued, his subconscious bringing his projections closer, a riot of Middle Eastern-men filling the streets leading to their apartment.

***

“What’s the most resilient parasite?” Steve asks Thor. They’re in a elegant Japanese dining room, and Thor is eating across from him and Clint, on the sleek dining table. The three of them are dressed in well-tailored suits, even the security guards behind Thor. “A bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm?” Thor stops with his fork in front of his mouth. Clint glances between Thor’s concerned face and Steve’s smirk.

“What Mr. Rogers is trying to say-” Clint begins, but Steve interrupts.

“An idea. Resilient, highly contagious. Once an idea’s taken hold in the brain it’s almost impossible to eradicate. A person can cover it up, ignore it-but it stays there.”

“But surely to forget?” Thor asks.

“Information, yes. But an idea? Fully formed, and understood? That sticks,” Steve taps his forehead, “In there, somewhere.”  
Thor puts down his fork, starting to get the idea of the work Steve and Clint have been doing for years. “For someone like you to steal?” Thor says, more of a statement than a question.

“Yes. In the dream state, conscious defenses are lowered and your thoughts become vulnerable to theft. It’s called extraction.” Clint says.

“But, Mr. Odinson, we can train your subconscious to defend itself from even the most skilled extractor.” Steve continues.

“How can you do that?”

“Because I _am_ the most skilled extractor. I know how to search your mind and find your secrets. I know the tricks, and I can teach them to your subconscious so that whenever you’re asleep, your guard is never down. But if I’m going to help you, you have to be completely open with me. I’ll need to know my way around your thoughts better than your wife, you therapist, anyone,” Steve gestures all around him. “If this is a dream and you’ve got a safe full of secrets, I need to know what’s in that safe. For this to work, you have to let me in.”

Thor smiles and stands up. One of the security guards opens the double doors so they see the party outside the dining room. “Gentlemen. Enjoy your evening as I consider your proposal.”

Clint sighs. “He knows.”

The entire building trembles, making them up cough at the dust falling through the cracks of the ceiling. Steve checks his watch. The second hand is frozen. Up above, Hodge is checking the tubes connected to Steve, Clint, and Thor. An explosion echoes down the street. Up above, in the real world, Darcy checks her watch and watches Hodge’s head bump against the window. The Japanese castle shakes again; when it stops Steve and Clint hear the crashing waves below the cliff and the other party guests-projections-chatting.

“Thor knows. He’s playing with us.” Clint says.

“I can get the information that’s in the safe. He looked right at it when I mentioned secrets.” Steve replies.

“What’s he doing here?” Clint asks, looking past Steve’s shoulder.

Steve just shakes his head. “Get to your room. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Clint scowls. “Fine. Remember that we’re here to work.”

Steve walks up to Bucky, unable to continue sipping his drink. His hair is longer than it was before he died, his sharp jawline has some scruff, and his blue eyes are dazzling. He’s almost as gorgeous as he was while he was still alive, in the real world. Steve leans on the rail of the terrace like Bucky, looking down at the jagged rocks.

“If I jumped, would I survive?” Bucky asks, smiling. His voice is deeper, quieter, as if he hasn’t spoken in years.

Steve looks down again, then back at Bucky. “With a clean dive, maybe. Buck, why are you here?”

“I thought you might be missing me, Stevie.” Bucky leans towards him, Steve does the same, ever so slightly.

“I am. But I can’t trust you anymore.”

“So...what?” Bucky stands on his tip-toes to kiss him, and Steve leans down to help him, but leans back at the last second. “Such a tease, like always.” Bucky whispers. Steve then takes Bucky’s hand tightly and they walk, past projections that barely pay attention to them, up to a room. Bucky laughs at one of the paintings, claiming that Clint’s taste for art is still terrible, and Steve only chuckles.

Steve puts on black gloves and asks Bucky to sit. He does, his eyes burning into Steve, that smile trying to slow Steve down from his task at hand. “Why do ya always have to leave, Stevie?” Bucky pouts, while Steve ties a rope to one leg of Bucky’s chair. Steve looks up and refrains himself from falling into Bucky’s trap. He’s more tricky in dreams than he ever was in the real world, and he knows it. Or at least he used to. Why, exactly, do you keep him in your subconscious, again? Steve thinks, but he pushes it out of his mind.

“K, Buck, do not, keyword: not, leave that chair. I’ll slip from the side of the building. Now, you don’t want that happenin’ to your Steve, right?” Bucky nods, his smile plastered on his face. Steve can’t kiss him, or he’ll be lost in this dream, so he blows a kiss towards Bucky, climbing out of the window.

A few feet down, Steve abruptly falls fast a good twenty feet, yelling “Goddammit, Bucky!”, because he fully knows that Bucky left the hotel room. Steve can see his coy little smile and for a moment, he hates to love him.

Steve has to climb up ten feet and gets out a glass cutter, then breaks into the kitchen, close to where the safe would be. He quickly walks through the kitchen, putting a silencer on his pistol. He then runs out of the shadows, shooting one of the guards, and catching him before he falls, so the others aren’t alerted. He shoots three more men, as fast as possible to get to the safe. There’s no time to waste. Steve opens and closes the double doors and enters the same fancy dining room from earlier and walks up to the door hiding the safe, quickly unlocks it. He takes the file that is important, folds it, tries to put the fake file back in when the hammer of a handgun clicks. He aims his on reflex. Thor and Bucky are standing in the doorway, Bucky aiming at him.

“The gun, Steve.” Bucky says, his eyes filled with a quiet fire, as if he’s been waiting to shoot Steve since the day he met him. Steve doesn’t move. Bucky sighs. Two guards bring in Clint and holds him. Bucky puts his handgun to Clint’s temple. “Please. As much as I don’t want to let you leave this dream, I don’t want to be a mean motherfucker and kill you..and you know, send you to limbo.” Steve slowly places his gun on the table and it slides it down.

“Now the envelope, Mr. Rogers.” Thor says. Steve takes the fake envelope out from his coat pocket and slides it down and raises his hands.

Steve looks at at Thor and says, “Did he tell you, or did you know all along?”

“That you’re here to steal from me? Or that we are actually asleep?” Clint looks at him with an ‘I-told-you-so’ face. Thor continues, “I want to know who your employer is.”

Bucky cocks his gun. “No point in threatening him in a dream.” Steve says.

“That depends on what you’re threatening. Killing him would just wake him up, but pain...pain is in the mind.” Bucky shoots Clint in the shin instead and he drops to the floor screaming in pain. Bucky looks back up at Steve, a scowl on his face, as if Steve actually did kill him. “And, judging by the decor, we’re in your mind, aren’t we Clint?” Bucky goes to shoot at Clint’s other leg, but Steve leaps forward and slides down the table, grabbing his gun and shooting Clint in the head, who wakes up into the first dream.

Steve runs out of the room, and the building begins to cave in on itself. Bucky calmly picks up the fake file Steve left on the table and gives it to Thor, who rips it open and yells as he flips through the blank papers. Steve stops on the stairs and reads his papers quickly. Up above, Arthur yells at Hodge to give Steve the kick, and doesn’t see Thor wake up, who pulls a handgun on Clint. Hodge tips Steve back into the bathtub. Down below, Steve can sense it, and looks up to see the walls cave in with water, and a tsunami rushes in over his body.

***

Steve wakes up, and gasps for air while trying to get out of the tub. By the time he’s up, Thor is in the bathroom, pushing Hodge away, but Steve leaps out of the tub and punches Thor, and takes his pistol. The two of them sit across from each other in the bedroom. “So, you came prepared.” Steve begins.

“I brought the gun because not even my head of security knows this apartment. How did you find it?” Thor replies. Steve looks at Clint, who is watching the violence of the riots outside become closer, louder.

“Hard for a man in your position to keep a love nest totally secret...particularly when there’s a married woman involved.” Steve says.

“She would never..”

“And yet here we are.” Steve smirks. Thor remains silent. “With a dilemma.”

“You got what you came for.” Thor spits back.

“Not quite. The key piece of information wasn’t there, was it, Mr. Odinson?”

“They’re getting closer.” Clint says from the window.

Up above, Darcy checks her watch and puts a pair of headphones connected to an iPod on Hodge. Thor puts his eyes on the carpet but Steve points his gun at him. “You held something back because you knew what we were up to..so why let us in at all?”

“An audition.” Thor states.

“Audition for what?”

“Doesn’t matter. You failed.”

“I extracted all the information you had in there.”

“But your deception was readily apparent.” Darcy looks at the machine in the silver briefcase, and looks at Hodge’s timer. When it hits ‘30’, she plays “Non, je ne regrette rien”, which echoes down into their shared dream. “So leave me and go.” Thor continues.

“You know the cooperation that hired us won’t accept failure. We won’t last two days.”

“Come on, Rogers.” Clint says anxiously from the window.

Steve sighs. “Now I have to do this the old-fashioned way.” Steve throws Thor on the ground, but before he can yell the old school ‘who the hell do you work for’ at him, Thor laughs.

“I’ve always hated this carpet. It’s stained and frayed in such distinctive ways. But very definitely made of wool. Right now I’m lying on polyester.” Steve looks up and glares at Hodge who shrugs. “Which means I’m not lying on my carpet in my apartment.” He smiles at Steve. “You’ve lived up to your reputation Mr. Rogers. I’m still dreaming.” There’s another explosion in the distance. Steve looks back, only to find that Clint woke up.  
On the train, Clint rips off the tubes connected to his wrist. “How’d it go?” Darcy asks. “Not good.” Clint replies, checking the last three countdowns.

Thor gets up off of the carpet and smiles at Steve. “A dream within a dream. I’m impressed.” Steve looks at his watch, and hears the rioters coming up through the hallway. “But in my dream, we really ought to be playing my rules..”

“Yup, but see Thor-” Hodge begins. Thor looks at him.

“We’re not in your dream-” Steve continues. Thor turns back to Steve, but he’s vanished; his time was up.

“We’re in mine.” Hodge finishes, then the rioters burst through the door, taking over Hodge then Thor, waking them up in order.

Back in reality, on the train, Clint is kneeling next to the briefcase, then looks up at Hodge. “Asshole. How could you get the carpet wrong?!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Hodge counters.

“You’re the architect-”

“I didn’t know he was gonna rub his damn cheek on it!” Steve pulls Clint away from Hodge. And everyone says Steve’s the one who likes to pick fights. Not end them. Bucky usually did that for him.

“Let’s go.” Steve says.

“And you- what the hell was all that?” Clint says, his voice growing louder.

“I had it under control.”

Clint scoffs. “I’d hate to see it out of control-”

“There’s no time for this. I’m getting off at Kyoto.”

“Why? He’s not gonna check every compartment.”

“I can’t stand trains.” Clint moves to turn off the machine in the briefcase and takes the tubes out of Thor’s wrist. He shuts the briefcase. “Hey. Every man for himself.” He tosses a wad of money towards Darcy, who catches it without even looking up. Buck would’ve liked her. Hodge leaves the same time as Steve and Clint, but they go in different directions.

Moments after Steve and Clint get off the train, Thor wakes up and looks around. He only sees Darcy, who’s reading a comic book called ‘Captain America’. He looks at his wrist, and only smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> [INSP](http://whitelaws.tumblr.com/post/23939965531)  
> Check out my[tumblr](captainsmeesh.tumblr.com)?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets a new member on his team: a wicked smart architect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the latest installment of this AU! This one seems like it took forever to write, but it's worth it. Hope you enjoy!

Steve is sitting in a fancy hotel room in Tokyo, a gun on the table and his totem in front of him. He spins the metallic spin top on the sleek wooden table, and clicks the hammer of his gun, just in case his dream became his reality, like Bucky. After Bucky’s death, Steve took his totem for his own use. He waits for the totem to topple, and once it does, he uncocks his gun and places it on the table. He sighs with relief and sits back in his chair. 

He closes his eyes. Howling wind takes over in his ears, then he sees Bucky, before he died, before he went to war, when he was still able to get anyone on the planet with his good looks and personality. But, instead, he chose Steve. It took both of them to admit their feelings for each other, after being best friends since they were kids. Bucky was seven, and Steve was six, and Steve got into a fight with the bigger kids since they squished a frog that didn’t do anything. This persisted for 11 more years, until Bucky decided to go into the army, yet Steve had the argument that it wasn’t fair that Bucky was able to serve his country and Steve wasn’t able to.

Before Bucky knew it, he was home with his left arm replaced, and Steve was the first to know, since he was Bucky’s closest family member. Alexander Pierce told him, he saw the procedure, but he didn’t sign off on the part where they make Bucky have temporary amnesia. Again. And again. Where he barely remembers his time in the army, when he had to watch his buddies die, how he couldn’t protect them. Steve took him home and helped him get back to a normal life, and gradually, Bucky wanted to go into a dream with Steve. Months after that, Bucky’s delirium caused his death. 

The phone on the table rings, pulling Steve out of his stupor. He picks it up hesitantly, fearing that Pierce Engineering is hot on their trail. “Hello?” He says, holding his breath. 

“Hi, Steve!” A little girl’s voice says. Steve sighs in relief. Sharon is Peggy’s niece, who stays with her almost every weekend. Peggy is his oldest friend, besides Bucky, who he met almost a year before Bucky died. Another voice comes in through the receiver, Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s kid sister. She visits Peggy and helps babysit. 

“Hey, guys. How are you?” Steve can’t help but smile. These two hold a special part in Steve’s life, especially after Bucky’s death.

“Good. Okay, I guess.” Sharon says. There’s a pause. Steve’s about to say something, but Sharon beats him to it. “When are you coming home?”

“I can’t. Not for a while.” Steve says, remembering the last time he saw Sharon. Her blonde hair, bright blue eyes, the way they’d run around together. How she’s more wise than most adults, even though she’s a child. 

“Why?”

“Well, Ms. Carter, I’m away because I’ve been working...”  

“Peggy says you might not ever be coming back.” Steve remembers her playing in the grass, her face turned away from him, but before he can call out to her, Peggy calls for her, and she’s gone.

“Well, we’ll just have to hope she’s wrong about that, won’t we?” Steve wants to smash the phone. He wants to go back in a machine so Bucky never even has the chance to die.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“Is Bucky with you?” Steve remembers Bucky, a soft smile on his lips before his death. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to push that memory to the back of his mind.

He takes a couple breaths before he replies. “No. No we talked about this, Sharon. Bucky’s gone.”

“Where?” There’s a commotion on the other end of the line and he hears ‘Say bye-bye.’ Before the line is disconnected. Steve stares at the phone. He doesn’t know what to do with it, so he drops it to the floor. There’s a knock on the door, and Steve rushes to grab the gun and the top before he walks towards the door. He undoes the latch and unlocks the door. Clint’s on the other side, his bag slung on his shoulder. 

“Our ride’s in the roof.” Clint says. Steve only nods, and goes to put on his jacket that’s a size bigger than him, and grab his bag that’s next to the table. “Steve...Are you okay?”

Steve stops moving. He lies. Or, at least, tries to. “Yeah, why?”

Clint knows he’s lying but doesn’t bring it up. “Down in the dream, Bucky showing up like that.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about your leg.” 

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“One apology is all you’re getting, Clint. Where’s Hodge?” 

Clint shrugs. “Hasn’t shown. You wanna wait?”

Steve shakes his head immediately. “We were supposed to deliver Thor’s expansion plans to Pierce Engineering two hours ago. By now they know we’ve failed. Time to disappear.” The two of them take the stairs to the roof, where a helicopter is waiting. 

They walk towards the helicopter pad. “Where will you go?” Clint asks. 

“Buenos Aires. I can lie low there. Maybe sniff out a job when things quiet down. You?”

“Stateside.”

Steve scoffs. “Send my regards.” Clint nods. They see the passengers in the helicopter. There’s Thor on one side, and Steve is surprised the thing hasn’t crashed yet since he’s inhuman based on his size. On the other side, there’s Hodge, who is beaten and bloody, hyperventilating with wide eyes flickering between Steve and Thor. 

“He sold you out.” Steve glances at Clint with a raised eyebrow; he knew Hodge was no good. “He thought he’d come to me and bargain for his life.” One of Thor’s bodyguards- _ why the fuck does he have so many? The guy looks like he could survive a lightning strike to the heart and still survive _ -offers him a gun. “So I offer you the satisfaction.”

Steve shakes his head, looking at Hodge. He wouldn’t kill an idiot bully. “That’s not how I deal with things.” He replies. The helicopter starts up again, the blades whirring so fast he can barely hear, even though earlier his hearing was still shit. Only one of his many ailments in real life, never in a dream. Maybe that’s why he dreams unnaturally so much.

“Would you work with him again?”  _ Hell to the no,  _ Steve thinks. All he does is shake his head. Thor’s bodyguards pull Hodge out of the helicopter, and Thor gestures for them to sit. They enter, and Steve watches as the bodyguards pull Hodge towards the door on the roof. 

“What will you do with him?” Steve asks.

“Nothing. But I can’t speak for your friends at Pierce Engineering.” Thor replies. All Steve can think of is that he never should’ve gotten involved with Pierce, who calls everyone and anyone associated with him and his company Hydra. He doesn’t know why, all he knows is that that name is idiotic, and he never should’ve gotten involved with him. However, he wonders that if he didn’t know about it, how Bucky would react after the procedure. Would he still want to take solace in dreaming? Would it have prevented his death? These are the six years Steve regrets: letting Bucky go to war, letting him get his memories erased, introducing him to dreaming without actually sleeping per se, tricking Bucky into thinking that the dream became his reality. Running from Hydra after betraying Pierce, by letting their best work die. Maybe Hodge wouldn’t get killed by Pierce, even though he was an ass. Steve looks at Thor, who is looking down at the city passing by.

“What do you want from us?” Steve asks.

“Inception.” Thor replies. Clint raises his eyebrows, and Steve is thrown back, wondering exactly how much this guy knows. Thor continues, “Is it possible?”

“Of course not.” Clint says.

“If you can steal an idea from someone’s mind, why can’t you plant one there instead?”

“Okay, here’s planting an idea: I say to you: ‘Don’t think about elephants.’ What are you thinking of?”

“Elephants.”

“Right. But it’s not your idea because you know I gave it to you.”

“You could plant it subconsciously-”

“The subject’s mind can always trace the genesis of the idea. True inspiration is impossible to fake.”

“No it isn’t.” Steve butts in. 

Thor looks at him, an eyebrow raised. “Can you do it?” 

Steve crosses his arms on his chest. “I won’t do it.”

Thor examines him. He must know about Steve’s situation. “In exchange, I’ll give you the information you were paid to steal.”

“Are you giving me a choice? Because I can find my own way to square things with Pierce.”  _ No, you can’t. You’ll never be able to.  _

“Then you do have a choice.”

“And I choose to leave.” 

The helicopter lands at a private airport forty miles outside the city. Thor motions at a private jet. “Tell the crew where you want to go, they’ll file the plan en route.” Steve and Clint look at each other and exit the helicopter, immediately going for the jet. “Mr. Rogers…? There is one other thing I can offer you.” Steve stops walking, and so does Clint. “How would you like to go home? To America. To your family?” 

Steve turns towards him, and first he thanks god that the helicopter blades have stopped whirring. The second thing is how this guy is un-fucking-believable with his plans he knows Steve will take, but this one is out of the ballpark. “You can’t fix that. Nobody could.” 

“Just like inception.” Steve considers the offer, but Clint tugs at his arm. They both know that this guy seems sketchy as fuck, but there might be a chance that he could be free and go home. “Rogers, come on, or I swear to-” Clint gets interrupted with, “How complex is the idea?” by Steve, and he gives up.  _ Steve’s lost his mind. Again.  _

“Simple enough.” Thor replies. 

“No idea’s simple when you have to plant in someone else’s mind.”

“My main competitor is an old man in poor health. His  _ son  _ will soon inherit control of the corporation. I need him to decide to break up his father’s empire. Against his own self-interest.” 

“Rogers, we should walk away from this.” Clint says.

Steve ignores him once more. “If I were to do it. If I could do it...how do I know you can deliver?”

“You don’t. But I can. So do you want to take a leap of faith, or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone?” Thor says. Steve quickly thinks that he  _ is  _ already alone, how his family isn’t his blood-related family, but they’re family. You can’t give up on family. Steve looks at Thor and barely nods. Thor smiles. “Assemble your team, Mr. Rogers. And choose your people more wisely.” The helicopter’s engine starts up again and Steve backs up towards the jet, wondering what the fuck he just did.

On the jet, Steve looks at the window, and Clint is stabbing at his food, angry with Steve’s decision. He’s looking for a bit of a fight. “I know how much you want to go home-” Steve turns his head towards Clint so quickly that it looked like a blur.

“No, you don’t.” Steve spits out. 

“But this can’t be done.”

“It can. You just have to go deep enough.” 

“You don’t know that!”

“I’ve done it before.” Steve’s done arguing; he’s quiet again. He looks at Clint, whose staring at him, his mouth open. He looks back at the window. 

“Did it work?”

“Yes.” Steve’s trying so hard to push down the guilt rising in his chest. 

“Who’d you do it to?” Steve looks back at Clint. He can’t tell him. He can’t be honest and tell him that it was Bucky. Clint shrugs it off. “So why are we heading to Paris?”

“We need a new architect.”

***

With Clint setting up shop in London, Steve goes to a prestigious university in France, where his old friend, Dr. Erskine teaches. Steve finds his room and sits in a back row, waiting. The classroom is empty, but Erskine is at his desk, grading papers and whatnot. He flips over an essay to give it a grade and write comments. “You never did like your office.” Steve makes Erskine look up at him. 

Dr. Erskine recognizes him and replies with his infamous German accent, “No space to think in that old broom cupboard.” Dr. Erskine is basically a father to Steve, and has been for years, after his mom, Sarah, died. He practically raised Steve. He watches Steve walk up to the front row. “Is it safe for you to be here, Steven?” 

“Extradition between France and the U.S. is a bureaucratic nightmare.” 

“I think they’d find a way to make it work in your case.” 

Steve hands Erskine a shopping bag full of presents for Sharon, Becca, and Peggy. “Can you take these back for Peggy?”

“It’ll take more than the occasional stuffed animal to convince Sharon that she still has you as a family member.” There’s a pause. The two men don’t want to get into the fact that no one knows what happened with Bucky, why he’s been away for so long. How Erskine taught him to be the best extractor, but with Bucky, his skill is illegitimate. “Why did you come here, Steven?” 

Steve looks down and chooses his words carefully; he knows Erskine will have the same reaction as Clint. “I found a way home. A job. For powerful people. If I pull it off, I can get back home. But I need help.”

“Oh, lord. You’re here to corrupt one of my best and brightest.”

“If you have someone good enough, you have to let them decide for themselves. You know what I’m offering-”

“Money?”

“No, not just money. The chance to build cathedrals, entire cities-things that have never existed, things that couldn’t exist in the real world.”

“Everybody dreams, Steven. Architects are supposed to make those dreams real.” 

Steve shakes his head. “That’s not what you used to say. You told me that in the real world I’d be building attic conversions and gas stations. You said that if I mastered the dream-share I’d have a whole new way of creating and showing people my creations. You told me it would free me.” 

Erskine looks like a kicked puppy. “And I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

“No, you weren’t. Your vision was a vision of pure creativity. It’s where we took it that was wrong.”

“And now you want me to let someone else follow you into fantasy.” 

“They won’t actually come on the job, they’ll just design the levels and teach them to the dreamers.”

“Design them yourself.”

Steve looks down again. The stack of papers on Erskine’s desk. He sighs. “Buck won’t let me.”

Erskine leans forward. “Come back to reality, Steven. Please.”

“You know what’s real?! This job-this  _ last _ job-is how I get home.” Erskine looks down at his papers, defeated. Steve knows he’s so stubborn, he always has been, but this new hope takes it to a whole other level. “I wouldn’t be standing here if there was any other way. I can get home. But I need an architect who’s as good as I was.”

Erskine’s convinced. “I’ve got someone better.” The two of them walk out into the main corridor and wait, Erskine looking through the crowd of students walking by until a guy who’s almost the same age as Steve walks towards them. “Anthony!” The guy turns towards them and walks over. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Rogers.”

The guy is taller than him, with brown hair and weird goatee, and still looks Steve up and down as if this is a joke. He still offers his hand, and Steve shakes it. “Pleased to meet you. Also, call me Tony.”

“If you have a few moments, Mr. Rogers has a job offer to discuss with you.” Erskine says, and walks back to his classroom, leaving the two of them together.

“A work placement?” Tony asks.

Steve smiles. It’s gonna be fun messing with this guy, even though he looks like he’s gonna be a total pain in the ass. “Not exactly.” 

***

The two of them are on the roof of the building, and tony is chewing on a sandwich. Steve takes out a pen and graph paper from his bookbag and hands it to Tony. “A test.” Steve says.

“Aren’t you going to tell me anything?” Tony asks, with his mouth full.

“Before I describe the job, I have to know if you’re able to do it.”

“Why?”

“It’s not, strictly speaking, legal.” Tony raises an eyebrow. Steve hands him the paper and pen. You have two minutes to draw a maze that takes one minute to solve.” Tony’s first two mazes aren’t complex enough, but the last one is a circle, and Steve is stuck trying to solve it. Tony smiles, and bites a chunk off of his sandwich. This kid is good, probably even better than he showed Steve during his quick test. Steve knows that Tony is fully onboard to mess with Steve. The timer goes off. Steve barely finished the maze. “That’s more like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back and reading! Next chapter: Tony learns the way of changing things in the dream.


	3. Chapter 3

The last thing Tony remembers before he starts his dreaming is the the lawn chairs and tubes coming out of the silver briefcase, how Clint inserted them into his wrist and Steve’s. How the large workshop they’re in smells like sawdust and how the lawn chairs were uncomfortable as fuck. He remembers how Steve was being an ass with testing the mazes, but he was promised a job abroad, and a chance to show off his talents.

Tony’s always loved creating new things; he built an engine when he was a child, recently, he made a line of prosthetics, and a way to keep shrapnel out of people’s hearts. All for his father’s company, Stark Industries. That’s how he was able to come to college in Paris. But Steve...he wonders what happened to this guy to become so boxed in, to lose his cool faster than anyone he’s ever known. Maybe he’ll figure it out when he goes into a dream with him. Maybe-

They’re sitting at an outdoor table. He hears people sitting around him at other tables, people walking around, cars driving by. His attention is pulled back when Steve starts to speak.

“They say we only use a fraction of the true potential of our brains..but they’re talking about when we’re  _ awake. _ While we dream, the mind performs wonders.”

The gears in Tony’s mind turn quickly. “Like your new body?” Steve nods subtly.

“How do you imagine a building? You consciously create each aspect, puzzling over it in stages..but sometimes, when your imagination flies-”

“I’m discovering it.”

“Exactly. Genuine inspiration.”  _ Literally, my life.  _ Tony thinks. Steve leans forward and draws a circle made of two arrows on the napkin in front of him. “In a dream your mind continuously does that. It creates and perceives a world simultaneously. So well that you don’t feel your brain doing the creating. That’s why we can short-circuit the process.”

“How?” 

“By taking over the creating part.” Steve draws a straight line between the two arrows. He points at Tony with his pen. “This is where you come in. You build the world of the dream. We take the subject into that dream, and let him fill it with his subconscious.”

“But are you trying to fool him that the dream is actually real life?” 

Steve nods. “While we’re in there, we don’t want him to realize he’s dreaming.”

Tony feels like he’s in way over his head, which he hasn’t felt in forever. “How could I ever get enough detail to convince him that it’s real?”

“Our dreams feel real while we’re in them. It’s only when we wake up we realize things were strange..”

Tony gestures around them, bicyclists go by, people walk their dogs, others ordering lunch across the street. Big apartment buildings surround them. “But all the textures of real life-the stone, the fabric. Cars,  _ people... _ your mind can’t create all this.”

“It does. Every time you dream. Let me ask you a question: You never remember the beginning of your dreams, do you? You just turn up in the middle of what’s going on.”

Tony agrees on that one. “I guess.”

Steve gives him a coy smile; he loves the faces new guys make whenever he has to explain the concept of architectural jobs in dreams. “So..how did we end up in this restaurant?” 

“We came here from…” Tony tries to remember. He can’t. 

“How did we get here? Where are we?” Steve loves the faces newbies make the first time in the dream. 

Tony’s been thinking silently for a solid three minutes. He hears a faint rumble down the street. So did Tony, since his eyes widen. 

“Oh my God. We’re  _ dreaming _ .” Steve nods, and the rumbling becomes louder.

“Stay calm. We’re actually asleep in the workshop. This is your first lesson in shared dreaming, remember?” The rumbling is closer, and Steve covers his ears. The restaurant begins to break apart, as well as empty tables, the cobblestone streets, the fruit stand down the street, parts of the apartment buildings. Tony sees Steve covering his head, and Tony tries to yell over the noise. “If it’s just a dream, why are you covering your-”

Tony startles awake. Next to him Steve says, “Because it’s never  _ just _ a dream.” Tony looks over at Clint, then back at Steve. “And a face full of glass hurts like hell, doesn’t it? While we’re in it, it’s real.”

“That’s why the military developed dream sharing-a training program where soldiers could strangle, stab, and shoot each other, then wake up.” Clint says. 

“How did architects get involved?” Tony asks.

“Someone had to design the dreams.” Steve looks at Clint. “Let’s go for another five minutes-”

Tony’s bewildered. “We were only asleep for five minutes?! We talked for an hour at least-”

“When you dream, your mind,” Steve taps at his temple. “Functions more quickly, so time seems to pass more slowly.”

“Five minutes in the real world gives you an hour in the dream.” Clint says.

Steve smiles at both of them. “Let’s see how much trouble you can cause in five minutes.” Tony closes his eyes, and hears the hiss of the yellow button on the machine.

***

Tony is walking down the same crowded streets, Steve following him, hands in his pockets while Tony is taking in his surroundings. Steve looks around too, approving what Tony’s already created. 

“It’s good. You’ve got the cafe, the layout...you forgot the book shop but pretty much everything else is here.” Steve says.

Tony looks at the people walking towards him, around him, on the other side of the street. “Who are the people?”  

“They’re projections of my subconscious.” Steve replies.

“Yours?” Tony asks, looking back over his shoulder.

“Sure- _ you  _ are the dreamer,  _ I _ am the subject. My subconscious populates your world. That’s one way we get a subject’s thoughts-his mind creates the people, so we can literally  _ talk _ to his subconscious.”

“How else do you do it?”

“Architecture. Build a bank vault or a jail, something secure, and the subject’s mind will fill it with information he’s trying to protect.”

“Then you break in and steal it.” Steve only nods, because that’s what happened to Bucky.  _ Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. _

“I love the concrete sense of things-” Tony stamps his foot against the cobblestone street. “Real weight, you know? I thought a dream space would be all about the visual, but it’s the  _ feel _ of things. Question is, what happens as you start to mess with physics…” Tony’s never been a fan of physics, but he likes to make new things by fucking with the old ones. Tony looks up the street, forcing it to bend, until the tops of apartment buildings are touching, making a cube with the way he moved the streets of the city. On the top, things are still going as normal: people walking and cars driving, although they’re upside down. The two of them marvel at how much Tony’s grasped architecture in dream sharing. “It’s something, isn’t it?”

Steve’s quiet, due to something he’s never seen in this ‘career’ of his. “Yes. It is.” 

They continue to walk down the street, towards the part of the street that makes a plane of the cube. Tony notices that Steve’s projections are staring at him. “Why are they looking at me?” Tony asks, looking at Steve again.

“Because you’re changing things. My subconscious  _ feels _ that someone else is creating the world. The more you change things, the quicker the projections converge on you.”

“Converge?”

“They feel the foreign nature of the dreamer, and attack, like white blood cells fighting an infection.”

“They’re going to attack us?”

Steve smirks. “No. Just you.” They reach the next plane, that looks like a wall from where they’re standing, yet they’re able to continue walking, horizontally, as if they were on any normal street. Tony leads them towards a river, and he builds steps up to a taller bridge, which leads to a walkway. Tony makes the walkway infinitely larger, by taking two large mirrors and pulling them so they reflect on each other. Steve’s impressed, once again. “It’s beautiful..but if you keep on changing things..” They continue to walk, and Tony builds pillars to make a roof over the walkway. Steve’s projections begin to bump into Tony as they walk. 

“Mind telling your subconscious to take it easy?”

“That’s why it’s called  _ sub _ conscious. I don’t control it.” Steve looks at the arched stone and pillars, remembering his time with Bucky in Paris. He remembers the two of them leaning against the railing overlooking the river, how Bucky’s smile was so bright, that at that moment Steve knew he’d always remember it in clear and vibrant detail, how the two of them laughed, full of bliss. 

“I know this bridge. This place is real-” Steve becomes serious. He should’ve stopped Tony from becoming cocky and changing literally everything in the dream. “You didn’t imagine it, Tony, you  _ remembered _ it…” 

Tony nods, and continues walking. “I cross it every day on my way to the college.”

Steve falters, but tries to catch up with Tony. “Never recreate places from your memory. Always imagine new places.”

“You have to draw from what you know-”

“ _ Yeah, Tony,  _ but only use pieces-a streetlamp, phone booths, a type of brick-not whole areas.” Steve’s projections agree, becoming more hostile.

“Why not?”

“Because building dreams out of your own memories is the surest way to lose your grip on what’s real and what’s a dream.”

“Did that happen to you?” Steve stands there, watching the projections stare at Tony.

“Look, this isn’t about me-” Steve grabs Tony’s arm, turning him.

“Is that why you need me to build your dreams?” The projections get more hostile with Steve’s attitude, so much that they start to touch Tony, starting to begin a mob to try and rid him of Steve’s dream. 

“Leave him alone-” Steve pushes one of the projections away, and the two of them push off the increasing number of projections, but both of them are held down. Bucky pushes through the crowd with a knife in hand. 

“Wake me up, Rogers.” Tony says, worry in his voice.

“Buck, no!” Steve yells, trying to get away from the two guys holding him and to get to Bucky.

“Wake me up!” Tony screams, and Bucky flips his knife and stabs Tony repeatedly in the gut-

***

Tony gasps awake, and Clint moves towards him, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, dude.”

“Why couldn’t I wake up?”

“The only way to wake up from inside the dream is to die.” By now, Steve’s awake, and he pulls the tubes out of his wrist, and looks at Clint. Even though he’s small again, the other two listen to him as if their lives depend on it. 

“He’ll need a totem.” Steve says, gesturing towards Tony.

“What?”

“Some kind of personal icon. A small object that you can always have with you, and that no one else knows.” Clint tells him. Steve gets up and heads for the bathroom. 

Tony yells after him: “That’s some subconscious you’ve got, Rogers. He’s a real charmer!” 

“Sounds like you’ve met Mr. Barnes.” Clint says. 

“He’s...who? And why is Steve’s body bigger in the dream?” 

Clint pulls off the tubes still connected to Tony’s wrist. “He’s Steve’s, uh, husband.” 

In the bathroom, Steve spins the top on a marble countertop, waiting for it to topple, holding his breath. It topples, and he grabs it as fast as possible, exhaling sharply.

“So. A totem. You need something potentially heavy.” Clint continues. 

“Like a coin?” 

Clint shakes his head. “Too common. You need something that has a weight or movement that only  _ you _ know.”

“What’s yours?” 

Clint holds out a purple die. “A loaded die.” Tony reaches for it, but Clint closes his hand around it. “I can’t let you handle it. That’s the point. No one else can know the weight or balance of it.”

“Why?”

“So when you examine your totem, you know, beyond a doubt, that you’re not in someone else’s dream.”

Tony thinks that that’s reasonable, yet with what he just experienced, he’s still angry with Steve. “That shouldn’t be an issue for me.” 

“Why not?” 

“Clint, maybe you can’t see what’s going on, maybe you don’t want to. But Steve’s got problems he’s tried to bury down there. I’m not going to  _ open my mind  _ to someone like that.” Tony gets up off of the lawn chair, grabs his coat, and leaves immediately. 

Steve walks out of the bathroom. “He’ll be back.” Clint looks at him. “I’ve never seen anyone pick it up so fast. And one reality won’t be enough for him now. When he comes back, get him to build mazes.”

“Where will you be?”

“I’ve got to talk to Nat.”

“Nat? But she’s in Mombasa. Pierce’s backyard.”

Steve shrugs, even though he’s scared way deep down, that Pierce’s STRIKE team could get him, or even worse. Kill him. “Necessary risk.” Clint knows he’s lying, again, yet tries to stop him. 

“There are plenty of other thieves.” Clint says.

“We don’t just need a thief. We need a forger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter: Steve goes to recruit a very clever Forger.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve’s practically invisible in the busy streets of Mombasa, which is good, since Pierce’s goons shouldn’t be able to find him, at least not immediately. Steve makes his way through the crowd and up to the second story bar, inhaling the cigarette smoke and trying not to cough through it while he makes his way to a big group of men and one woman squeezed between them, playing at a dice game. 

Steve walks up and sees that she’s fiddling with her last two poker chips. She’s wearing a sleek red and black dress, with sunglasses on her collar. Way too mature and fancy for this place. Steve smiles and walks up behind her and says, “Rub them against each all you like, they’re not going to breed.”

Natasha looks up at him, smirking. “You never know.” The guy across from her loses, but two new men get in the game, squeezing Natasha even more. She puts in her last two chips and waits for the dice to be rolled. The two of them know that she’s gonna lose, but she does it on purpose. “Drink?” Steve proposes. Natasha loses. “You’re buying.” She says. Steve follows her to the cashier and pulls out two stacks of chips. Steve shouldn’t be surprised, yet his eyes are wide and Natasha just smiles at him, taking her stack of money. They go to the bar and Steve orders two beers for them. They go to a vacated table out on the balcony. They don’t see a man in a fancy business suit watching them.

He’s always liked Natalia--Natasha Romanoff; she’s a quick thinker and can ruin Clint’s jokes the second it comes out of his mouth. The two of them are smart as hell, even though their looks don’t show it. Steve and Natasha are almost the same size; Steve is just skinnier, with more health issues than any average person. 

“So, what’s a nice guy like you doin’ in a dump like this?” She says, smirking. “Word is, you’re not welcome in these parts.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a price on your head from Pierce Engineering. Pretty big one, actually.” That’s when he realizes that Natasha doesn’t know about his association with Pierce. Or, ex-association. 

“Trying to clear my name. I was hoping you’d help.” Steve replies, knowing full well that she’s done that for herself plenty of times before. “You wouldn’t sell me out.”

Natasha fake gasps. “‘Course I would.”

Steve smiles. “Not when you hear what I’m selling.”

Natasha starts to drink from her glass, then Steve says the one word: “Inception.” Steve continues; he has her full attention, she’s not looking at exits or the people bustling around on the street below. “Don’t bother telling me it’s impossible.”

“It’s perfectly possible. Just fucking difficult.”

“That’s what I keep saying to Clint.”

“Clint? You’re still working with that ass?”

“He’s a good point man. Besides, you’re just mad ‘cause you two haven’t bickered like an old married couple in months.” His sarcasm always breaks down Natasha’s walls, and she doesn’t even get mad about it. But he does kind of make himself sad about the ‘old couples’ statement, because he and Bucky had built a greater life in a dream, where they grew old together. Natasha senses this, and tries to get back on subject. 

“He is the best. But he has no imagination. If you’re going going to perform inception, you need imagination.” She points at Steve with a peanut.

“You’ve done it before?” 

“Yes and no. We tried it. Got the idea in place, but it didn’t take.” She says, shaking her head. She eats another peanut and shrugs. 

“You didn’t plant it deep enough?”

“It’s not just about depth. You need the simplest version of the idea-the one that will grow naturally in the subject’s mind. Subtle art.” 

“You’d know about that.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “That’s why I’m here.” Natasha lightly punches him in the arm.

“Anyway, what’s the idea you need to plant?”

“We want the heir to a major corporation to break up his father’s empire.”

“See, right there you’ve got various political motivations, anti-monopolistic sentiment and so forth. But all that stuff’s at the mercy of the subject’s prejudice-you have to go basic.”

“Which is?”

“The relationship with the father.” Natasha says, washing down the peanuts and shaking off the peanut dust. “Do you have a chemist?” Steve shakes his head. “There’s a man here. Banner. He formulates his own versions of the compounds.”

Steve nods. “Let’s go see him.” 

“‘Kay, once you’ve lost your tail.” Steve’s eyes go wide. Of course they’d have found him sooner rather than later. Natasha nods her head slightly to the left, towards the bar. “Back by the bar, blue tie. Came in about two minutes after you did.”

“Pierce?”

“He pretty much owns Mombasa. His force teams are called STRIKE.” Steve looks over the balcony, and Natasha squeezes his fingers. She can’t stop him from running, even though he’ll hurt himself physically  _ even more. _

“Run interference. We’ll meet downstairs in half an hour.” Steve says. 

Natasha raises her eyebrows. “Back here?”

“Last place they’d expect.” Natasha nods and downs her drink, then gets up, walking towards one of Pierce’s guys, the one in the blue tie. 

“Freddy!” Natasha says, pointing at the guy, putting on her best smile. The guy looks at her awkwardly. “Freddy Simmonds, it  _ is  _ you!” She distracts the guy long enough for Steve to slip over the balcony, but the guy sees him anyway, at the last second. The guy gets up, trying to push through the crowd to the stairs to follow Steve. “Oh. No it isn’t.” Natasha says, getting another beer. 

Steve lands hard into the street, and another guy sees him. The guy starts to walk at him, and all Steve says is: “Yes?” This guy tries to reason with him, but Steve sees the guy from the bar and hits this guy in the gut and pushes past him. He runs through traffic, and before he goes around a corner, he looks at his pursuiters; men who clearly should be in tactical gear and not business suits, because both outfit choices are unwise in a place like this. It works, so he runs into the nearest building, a cafe, and sits down, trying to hide himself from the men pursuing him, but a tall African man starts yelling at him in Swahili, causing a scene because Steve isn’t here to buy anything, except time. The men almost run past but notice anyway, so Steve pushes at the waiter to run out, and luckily the waiter yells at them too, slowing them down. Gunshots echo through the streets and Steve begins to run harder than he ever has. He runs into an alley, three men chasing after him. That’s when he starts to lose hope, because the two buildings start to begin narrow the alleyway, making an exit that so small Steve doesn’t even think he can fit through it. But if he doesn’t try, he can’t go back anyway, but if he gets through it’d be a life-saving shortcut. He runs, pressing his hands against the brick, trying to squeeze out. 

Once Steve is out of the alley, he ends up in a market. Two more guys see him, but before he can start running again, a sleek, black sedan pulls up in front of him, blocking his path, and Thor pushes open the back door for him. “Care for a lift, Mr. Rogers?” 

Steve jumps in and catches his breath before he responds. “What brings you to Mombasa, Thor?”

“I have to protect my investment.” They drive, circling back to the bar where he last saw Natasha. She’s standing there wearing her sunglasses, watching the people walk around her, until the car pulls up.

“This is your idea of losing a tail?” Natasha asks, smirking, and Steve counters with, “I couldn’t call my ride, so I must be one lucky son of a bitch.”

“Watch your mouth, Rogers.” She says, smirking and getting into the front seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next: Tony learns about paradoxes; Steve, Natasha, and Thor go looking for a chemist.


	5. Chapter 5

The last two weeks have been pretty normal for Clint. Then he remembers that this life he’s been living is pretty fucking insane, but pretty fucking cool. Helping one of his best friends run from authorities since his best friend’s lover died. It’s been like a thrill ride, and it’s like a roller coaster slowly riding to the top, and the drop is going to be bittersweet. Maybe when this is all over he’ll choose a new pastime, like taking care of dogs, or something cool, like archery. He was Legolas for three years straight on Halloween.

Right now, he’s been toying with some trinket; that’s more Tony’s style. Speaking of Tony, he sneaked in behind Clint, clears his throat, and Clint looks at him. “He said you’d be back.”

“I tried not to come.” Tony says quietly.

Clint chuckles. “But there’s nothing else quite like it.” _There’s really not. Two years roaming around with Steve made it an adventure._

“No paper, no pens..nothing between you and raw, direct creation.” Tony says.

Clint points at the dream mechanism. “Shall we take a look at paradoxical architecture?” One of the other things Clint loves is paradoxes. Makes you think. Tony takes off his coat and they sit on the two lawn chairs, insert the yellow tubes into their wrists, and Clint presses the yellow button.

They’re in an office building, they’re on a set of stairs, shaped like a square. “You’re going to have to master a few tricks if you’re going to build three complete dream levels.” Clint says. They continue walking up the stairs, passing a secretary who dropped her papers on the steps.

“What kind of tricks?” Tony asks. They continue to walk, taking a left turn up the stairs.

“In a dream, you can cheat architecture into impossible shapes. That lets you create closed loops, like the Penrose Steps. The infinite staircase.” Tony stops walking. They’re back to where the secretary dropped her papers. Tony tries to figure out the impossible construction of the stairs.

“See-” They walk up one more step and Clint stops him. He gestures at the drop, unconnected from the other three flight of steps. They’re about 30 feet up from the floor of the building. “Paradox. A closed loop like this helps you disguise the boundaries of the dream you’ve created.”

“How big do the levels have to be?” They get off of the staircase and continued to walk through the building.

“Anything from the floor of a building, to an entire city. But it has to be complicated enough for us to hide from the projections. Kinda like that device you made to keep shrapnel from getting into the heart.”

Tony clicks his tongue, and shoots finger guns. “A maze.”

“And the better the maze-”

“The longer we have before the projections catch us.” Tony finishes.

Tony sees projections starting to look at Clint with minor annoyance. “My subconscious seems polite enough.” Tony says.

“Ha, ha. You wait, they’ll turn ugly. No one likes to see someone else messing around in their mind.”

“Rogers can’t build anymore, can he?”

“I don’t know if he can’t, but he won’t. He thinks it’s safer if he doesn’t know the layouts.”

“Why?”

“He won’t tell me. I think it’s Bucky. I think he’s getting stronger.” Tony stops walking, and Clint stops to look at him.

“His ex?”

“He’s not his ex.”

“They’re still together?!” Coming from the guy who’s parents died by simple car accident. He still believes that they were in a fight at the time, and his father did that cliché thing where he had to swerve to dodge a deer on the road or some shit.

“No. No, he’s dead, Tony. What you see in there is just his projection of him.”

“What was he like in real life?”

Clint looks down. His voice is quiet. “He was lovely. Handsome. He could’ve had anyone he wanted, but he chose Steve. Perfect for Steve, for the rest of the group. He fit in well everywhere. We all miss him.”

***

Back in Mombasa, Steve, Natasha, and Thor manage to make it to the back of a building in a not-so-busy street. A teenage boy walks up to Natasha and she gives him a wad of cash. They’re let inside. They walk up the few steps to reach the door, and knock. The peeling paint reassures Steve, maybe because it makes the building look vacant. Somewhere that Pierce’s goons wouldn’t think to look. There’s not a quick answer, so Natasha yells, “Banner, I know you’re in there!”

There’s a muted groan, and the door opens, revealing a man maybe ten years older than Steve, who’s groggy, with scruff on his face. “Natasha, I swear-” He stops, because he sees Steve behind Natasha, then Thor, who looks like a California oak tree compared to Steve and Natasha. He probably thinks that Thor is the guy running the operation, not Steve. “Uh, come in.” They enter, and Banner shuts the door quickly, moving to the chair behind his desk. There’s rows and rows of dusty glass bottles of all shapes and colors, filled with weird-looking liquid, taking over three complete walls, including the one behind Banner’s desk. There’s a cat sniffing around behind Banner, and Steve thanks God that he’s not allergic to animals.

“So..you’re seeking a chemist?” Banner asks, and offers Steve to sit in one of the chairs in front of Banner’s desk.

“Yes.” Steve replies.

“To formulate compounds for a job?”

“And to go into the field with us.”

Bruce frowns and shakes his head. “No, I rarely go into the field, Mr. Rogers.”

“Well, we’d need you there to tailor compounds specific to our needs.”

“Which are?”

“Great depth.”

“A dream within a dream? Two levels?”

Steve leans forward. “Three.” He smiles.

“Not possible. That many dreams within dreams would be too unstable.”

“It _is_ possible. You just have to add a sedative.”

Banner leans forward as well. “A _powerful_ sedative.” Steve nods. “How many team members?”

“Five.” Steve replies, leaning back in his chair.

“Six.” Thor says, pulling up a chair next to Steve. “The only way to know you’ve done the job is if I go in with you.”

“There’s no room for tourists on these jobs, Thor.” Natasha says, leaning on a wall not filled with bottles.

“This time, it would seem there is.” Thor says.

“This, I think, is a good place to start.” Banner picks up a clean bottle with orange liquid in it from his desk and hands it to Steve. “I use it every day.”

“What for?” Steve asks.

Banner stands up, grabbing a ring full of keys, and stops. “Perhaps you will not want to see.”

Steve stands up and grabs the bottle filled with orange liquid. “After you.” Banner leads them down a hallway, to a large door that’s locked. To Steve, it looks like a prison. Like most of the doors that led to Pierce’s human engineering rooms, where he first saw Bucky after he got home from overseas. He stops walking, and Natasha almost runs into him. “Follow Bruce, Steve. It’s safe.” She whispers.

They walk down a set of wooden stairs, leading to a room filled with almost twenty cots, all occupied by sleeping locals, a dream machine whirring, like it’s breathing. “Ten, twelve. All connected.” Natasha says. “Christ, Bruce.” An elderly man, gets up slowly from his chair, and stands next to Bruce.

Bruce looks at the three of them. “They come every day to share the dream.” Bruce says. The old guy slaps the nearest sleeper on the face, as hard as possible. The sleeper doesn’t move, or wake up, like he’s dead. “See? Very stable.” Thor, Natasha, and Steve walk through the room, observing each sleeper.

Steve turns to Bruce. “How long do they dream for?” He asks.

“Three, four hours, every day.” Bruce replies.

“How long in dream time?”

“With this compound? About forty hours, each and every day.” They continue to walk about the room.

Thor looks at Steve and Bruce. “Why do they do it?”

“Tell him, Mr. Rogers.” Bruce says.

“After a while..” Steve looks at Thor. “After a while it becomes the only way you _can_ dream.”

“Do you still dream, Mr. Rogers?” Bruce asks. Steve stares at the sleepers in front of him, uneasy.

“They come here every day to sleep?” Natasha asks, further down the long room.

“No.” Says the elderly man, who looks at the dreamers, then to Steve. “They come to be _woken up_ . The dream has become their reality.” The guy smiles softly at Steve then pokes him. “And who are _you_ to say otherwise, sir?” Steve stares at him for a few seconds and then takes off his jacket, turning to Bruce. “Let’s see what you can do.” Steve lays down in an empty cot, and Bruce hooks him up to a different dream machine and presses the yellow button when Steve nods his head.

Steve dreams of him and Bucky’s last dream together, a few flashes from right before they woke up. Their heads are against the metal rail of a train track, a train is getting closer and the vibrating metal almost deafens Steve. He sees Bucky’s face, slightly worried; he knows that Bucky was looking at him as if they were really about to die. Steve’s mind flashes to their house. The two of them are on the couch, holding hands. Bucky cradles Steve’s head in his hands. He knows what Bucky’s about to say, because he’s used the dream machine to see Bucky. “You know where to find me.” He says, softly. Steve’s mind flashes back to the train tracks, the sound of the train getting louder. Flashes back to Bucky saying, “You know what you have to do.”

Steve wakes up violently, gasping. Bruce looks down at him. “It’s sharp, right?” Steve doesn’t nod, doesn’t say anything. Just pushes himself up from the cot and pulls out the tubes in his wrist as fast as possible, still breathing heavily, his face becoming sweaty. He tries to make his run to the bathroom subtly, and knows that the others pretend that they didn’t see him running through the room like his life depended on it. _No, just his sanity_. He turns on one of the dirty sinks and slaps cold water on his face. “Come on, come on.” He whispers to himself, trying to get it together, but his mind retreats, making him think of his last moments with Bucky.

There’s peach-colored silk curtains blowing in the wind that’s coming in from the open window. He sees Bucky, combed hair, bright blue eyes, across from him, the wind trying to mess it all up. His suit jacket is gone, you can still see the metal fingers on his left arm, and he’s sitting in the window across from Steve, just far apart enough that they can’t touch. Bucky smiles at him, lovingly. Steve tries to take his mind off of the scene by fumbling around in his pocket for his totem, the spin top, and tries to spin it on the back edge of the dirty sink. It falls to the floor, rolling towards Thor, who’s standing in the doorway.

“Everything alright, Mr. Rogers?”

Steve dries his face with a paper towel and picks up the spin top and lies. “Yeah, yeah. Everything’s just fine.” Maybe Thor will believe him. Most people always know when he lies. He pushes past him, and his party leaves.

***

Thor, Steve, and Natasha are sitting at a table, away from any and all of Pierce’s scouts. Thor places photos and documents in front of both of them. Steve takes in all he can with his photographic memory, then hands it off to Natasha, who looks at it quickly and thoroughly.

“Loki Laufeyson, 32. Heir to the Laufeyson energy conglomerate. He’s spent his whole life being groomed as successor-breaking up his father’s empire will take a radical shift in his thinking.” Thor says, hands in his lap.

“What’s your problem with Loki?” Steve asks.

“That’s not your concern.”

“This isn’t the usual corporate espionage, Thor. This is _inception._ The seed of the idea we plant will grow in this man’s mind. It’ll change him. It might even come to define him.” Thor looks at him; Steve’s voice is challenging.

“My sources suggest you might not have always been so cautious.”

“Then you need new sources, Mr. Odinson.” Thor simply shrugs at Steve.

“Laufeyson has the regulators in their pockets. We’re the last company standing between them and total energy dominance and we can no longer compete. Soon they’ll control the energy supply of half the world. They’ll be able to blackmail governments, dictate policy. In effect, they become a new superpower. The world needs Loki Laufeyson to change his mind.” Steve wonders what this guy’s wife is like. Would she approve? Did she send him on this job herself? Steve has to remind himself to look up this guy’s wife, just to make sure.  

“That’s where we come in. How’s Loki’s relationship to his father?” Natasha cuts in.

“Rumor is the relationship is complicated.” Thor replies.

“We’ll need more than rumor, Thor.” Steve says. Natasha’s been leaning against the ledge of the roof they’re sitting on, now she walks over and sits down, only to pick up a certain photograph. She looks at it and turns it so Thor and Steve can see it. The man, in his 60’s, is in a fancy business suit, about to get into a black SUV. Looks like it was taken by a paparazzi photographer.

“Can you get me access to this man here? Selvig. Loki’s godfather.” Natasha says.

“It should be possible. If you can get the right references.” Thor says.

“References are something of a specialty for me, Mr. Odinson.” Natasha says with her infamous smirk.

***

Natasha finds the right sources, quickly. That source is Nick Fury, who’s got eyes and ears everywhere. She’s able to get into Laufeyson’s personal mansion, where Loki’s father is lying on his deathbed the next room over. Natasha is in a pant suit, sitting in the corner pretending to look at files while other lawyers work. There’s boxes everywhere, the desk has scattered pens and papers, looking as though they’re rushing.

Erik Selvig is there, looking at the papers on the desk. When he starts speaking, Natasha glances up, listening to his every word, watching his every move, along with the young lawyer talking to him. “I’m not smelling settlement here. Take them down-” Selvig says.

The young lawyer cuts in. “Mr. Selvig, Laufeyson Sr.’s policy is always one of avoiding litigation.”

Selvig turns to him, putting away his glasses. “Well. Shall we voice your concerns with Laufey directly?”

The young lawyer is fiddling with his pen, not able to keep eye contact with Selvig. “I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

“No, no , no. I think that we should.” He says, turning around to the door, which Natasha is sitting by. Selvig opens the double doors, and Natasha subtly peeks in. The room is large, all dark wood, a few tables and chairs around the room, and bookshelves. The only contrast is the hospital bed in the middle of the back wall, where Laufey is lying, and IV connected to him, and a heart monitor beeping steadily. On the other side of the wall, there are carts full of medicine bottles and kits. She sees Loki standing by the window, looking outwards, and Selvig walks up to him.

There’s a pause before he speaks. “How is he? I don’t wanna bother him unnecessarily but-”

Laufey starts yelling in gibberish, and waves his right hand around, knocking over a framed picture, making the glass break. The two look at him, and Loki walks towards him just as the nurse does to try and get rid of the glass. Loki kneels down while the nurse tries to calm Laufey and he picks up the picture. Natasha barely saw it before it was knocked over, when she was scanning the room. It looked like father and son enjoying a nice moment, the father smiling as the little boy blows at a homemade pinwheel.

Loki looks up at Laufey, who meets his gaze, and stops muttering. Loki stands up with the picture frame in hand, and looks back to Selvig. “Must be a cherished memory of his.” He says.

“ _I_ put it beside his bed. He hasn’t even noticed.” Loki says, scowling.

“Loki,” Selvig says, putting his hand on his godson’s shoulder. “We _need_ to talk about a powerful attorney.” Loki starts to try and interrupt but Selvig keeps going. “I know that this is hard for you, but it’s important that we start to think about the future-”

“No. No not now.” Loki says, walking back towards the window. Selvig sighs, biding his time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next: Steve and Co. formulate their plan, AKA Steve's reckless agreement so he can get home and be a free man; Tony learns something new about Steve.


	6. Chapter 6

The gang's all back together, with new members Bruce and Tony. They’re all in the workshop back in London, and Clint’s pulled up a couple more lawn chairs, a desk chair that’s able to spin, and a cushioned wooden chair. When Natasha walks in, Clint outstretches his arms and says, “Home Sweet Home!” Natasha rolls her eyes but still strides over to hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a fucking loser, you know that?” She says. Tony sees the interaction and becomes mildly uncomfortable. Then he realizes that everyone else think that it’s a normal thing, even their chemist, Bruce Banner. Sometimes, Tony hates being the new member of the group, yet he likes that he fits in well.

Natasha looks around the workshop, noticing everything set in place. The chairs, the desks, the machines, a dry erase board, a large notepad set up like a canvas, and a chalkboard. To her right is the bathroom, a room with a desk, a chair, a single lamp. She wonders where their beds are, and Clint whispers to her that they’ve reserved multiple suites at a nearby hotel.

“All right, let’s get started.” Steve says, and Thor brings a large briefcase to one of the tables surrounded by chairs. Steve walks up to the dry erase board and pins pictures of Selvig, Loki, and Laufey using magnets. He starts to write out connections, a way to help them change Loki’s mind about staying and running his father’s company after he passes. Tony sets up pictures of skyscraper buildings, parts of Laufey’s company. On another table, Bruce places his compounds that they’ll test with later.

The seven of them occupy the chairs, Steve and Natasha reading from files about the case they’re working with. Natasha stands by the dry erase board, pointing around to certain people and their connections to each other as she speaks, fully serious. “The vultures are circling. The sicker Laufey becomes, the stronger Erik Selvig becomes. I’ve had time to learn Selvig’s physical presence and mannerisms.”

Natasha hasn’t been out in field in a while, but that doesn’t mean she’s gotten rusty. On their stops on the way over from Mombasa to London, Natasha practiced to look like Selvig in the mirror. Eventually it works, she shakes her hand at the mirror, and Selvig’s projection shakes back. “Now, in the dream, I can impersonate Selvig and suggest the concepts to Loki’s conscious mind..” She continues, and draws a diagram on the notepad. “Then we take Loki down another level and his own subconscious feeds it right back to him.”

Clint, across from where Natasha is standing, gives her an impressed face. “So he gives _himself_ the idea.” Clint says.

“Precisely. That’s the only way to make it stick. It has to seem _self-generated._ ”

“Nat, I’m impressed.”

“Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Clint.” She says, smiling.

***

They test one of Bruce’s compounds, and end up in a large lobby made of marble, standing on the steps. Tony is showing Clint around the lobby. Natasha is leaning against the railing, near the top of the stairs. “He’s not scheduled for surgery, no dental, nothing.” She says.

“I thought he has some knee thing?” Steve says, two steps below her.

“Nothing they’d put him under for. Besides, we need a good ten hours.”

“Sydney to Los Angeles.” Thor cuts in, near the bottom of the stairs. They turn towards him. “Twelve hours and forty-five minutes-one of the longest flights in the world. He makes it every two weeks.” Thor’s sources have seen him get on a private jet, accompanied by two aides.

“Surely he flies private?” Steve asks.

“Not if there were unexpected maintenance with his plane.” Thor replies. Steve thinks this over, Tony and Clint come back and walk up a few steps. “It’d have to be a 747.” Clint says.

“Why?” Steve asks.

“On a 747 the pilots are up above, first class is in the nose so nobody walks through the cabin. We’d have to buyout the whole cabin, and the first flight attendant-”

“I bought the airline.” Thor says, everyone watching him. He shrugs. “It seemed..neater.”

“Neater, huh? Well, now we have ten uninterrupted hours.” Steve says. He turns towards Tony and gestures towards him. “Nice work, by the way.”

***

A day later, they get back to their deep discussion. “My question is how we go down three layers with enough stability. Three layers down a little turbulence is gonna translate into an _earthquake._ The dreams are gonna collapse with the slightest disturbance.” Clint says from his chair, taking notes into a tiny black notebook.

Bruce clears his throat and smiles. He points at Clint with his glasses. “Sedation. For sleep stable enough to create three layers of dreaming.” He says, reminding them of the sleepers in Bruce’s basement, and how the elderly man slapped one of the dreamers there, who didn’t wake up, and didn’t move. “We will have to combine it with an extremely powerful sedative. The compound we’ll be using to share the dream is an advanced Somnacin derivative. It creates a very clear connection between dreamers, whilst actually accelerating brain function.”  Bruce says.

“In other words, buying us more time in each level.” Steve says.

“Brain function in the dream will be about twenty times normal. And when you go into a dream within that dream the effect is compounded.”

“How much time?” Tony asks around a mouthful of blueberries, from the lawn chair he’s lounging in. 

“Three dreams..” Bruce calculates in his head. “That’s ten hours times twenty, times twenty, times twenty..”

“Math was never my strong suit. I’m gonna need you to elaborate.” Natasha says, in the spinning desk chair next to Clint.

“It’s basically a week one layer down, six months two layers down-” Steve begins.

“And ten years in the third level.” Tony says, his math always correct. “Who wants to spend ten years in a dream?”

Bruce shrugs. “Depends on the dream.” He says.

Natasha makes a face, one that Clint and Steve both know. It’s a face of determination, and how she always plans to complete a job, no matter the consequences. “It’s not going to take us long to crack Loki once we get going. We’ll be out in a couple of days, max.” She says.

“How do we get out once we’ve made the plant?” Clint asks, turning towards Steve, who’s standing in front of everyone, next to Bruce. “I hope you’ve got something a little more elegant in mind than shooting me in the head like last time.” Clint says, tilting back in his chair. Nat chuckles, and Clint frowns at her, trying not to smile at her beautiful Russian face.

Bruce turns to Steve, who’s got his arms crossed over his chest. “A kick.”

“Wait, what’s a kick?” Tony asks.

Nat slips her foot under one of Clint’s chair leg and tips it-Clint’s legs shoot up instinctively for balance. “That, Stark, would be a kick.”

Steve elaborates. “That feeling of falling which snaps you awake. We use that to jolt ourselves awake once we’re done.”

“But how are we going to feel that through the sedation?” Clint asks.

“That’s the clever part. I customize the sedative, to leave inner ear function unimpaired-” Bruce says, and Natasha pushes back Clint’s chair, who's pretending to sleep and jerks right before the chair lands on the concrete floor, as if he was woken up. Clint scoffs and just gets up again, punching Nat softly on the arm, who’s smirking. “That way, however deep the sleep, the sleeper will still feel falling, or tipping.” Bruce continues.

“Basically what I just demonstrated.” Natasha says, chuckling.

“But, even that won’t cut through _three_ layers of deep sleep.” Clint says.

“The trick is to devise a kick for each level, then synchronize them to get a snap that penetrates all three layers.” Steve says. Clint nods at Steve, understanding.

“So, we can use the musical countdown to synchronize the different kicks.”

***

That night, after Bruce and Thor leave for the hotel, followed by Nat and Clint, who’s got his arm over her shoulder. Tony leaves few minutes after them, and sees Bruce, with a notebook, sitting next to the desk in the side room, the dream machine on the desk, and Steve hooked up to it, lying on a lawnchair. Bruce turns around, nods, and says goodnight to him, and Tony nods.

The next night, after Tony thinks everyone’s gone, he goes into a different room of the workshop, where there are tools laying around. While waiting for Steve to get back with the new members of their team, Tony went to a nearby gem and minerals shop, and finds a two inch American Blue Topaz gem shaped like a triangular prism for his totem. Now, using the drill, he etches in ‘Potts’, lightly, where only he would know where to find it. He thinks it’s acceptable, and plans to leave, but he hears commotion in the next room over.

Tony walks over to see what it is, and it just Steve, who’s closing the briefcase that holds the machine in it. “Were you going under on your own?” He asks.

Steve closes it, and totally lies, and Tony pretends that what he says is the truth, 100 percent. “No, no. I was just, uh, running some experiments. I didn’t realize anyone was here, so..”

“Yeah, I was just-I was working on my totem, actually.”

“Here, let me take a look.” Steve says walking over, trying to reach for it, but Tony closes his hand around it. He shakes his head. “Oh, so you’re learning.” Steve says.

“An elegant solution for keeping track of reality. Was it your idea?”

“No, it was, uh, it was Bucky’s, actually.” Steve says. He pulls the spin top out of his pocket, showing Tony. “This one was his. He would spin it in the dream and it would never topple. Just spin and spin.” Steve says, remembering Bucky spinning it all the time, but never after his last dream. Buck just couldn’t accept that he was home, in the real world. He didn’t dare test it, as if he already knew that his totem would never topple. Steve puts it back in his pocket and pushes his thoughts to the back of his mind.

“Clint told me he passed away.” Tony says.

Steve barely nods, and changes the subject quickly. “How are the mazes coming along?” He asks. They go back into the workshop, towards the back, where Tony’s set up shop. Tony walks up to his 3-D models of the mazes he’s created, and Steve looks at the pictures of various buildings and sketches that Tony’s created, that will definitely be in the shared dream with Loki. “Each level relates to the part of the subject’s subconscious that we are trying to access. So, I’m making the bottom level a hospital, so Loki will bring Laufey. You know, I-- Actually, I have a question about this layout.” He says, picking up the model and showing it to Steve, who glances at it quickly before looking away.

“No, no, no. Don’t show me specifics. Only the dreamer should know the layout.” Steve says turning around and taking a seat, away from the models.

“Why is that so important?” Tony asks, putting the model down.

“In case one of us brings in our projections. We don’t want them knowing the details of the maze.” Steve replies.

Tony turns towards him. “You mean in case you bring Bucky in. You can’t keep him out, can you?”

Steve sighs, turning towards the table with more sketches. “Right.”

“You can't build, because if you know the maze, then he knows it. Well, he’d sabotage the whole operation. Rogers, do the others know?”

“No. No, they don’t.”

Tony steps closer. “You’ve gotta warn them if this is getting worse.”

Steve cracks and looks at Tony. “No one said it’s getting worse, Tony! I need to get home. I _want_ to get home. That’s all I care about right now.”

“Why can’t you go home?”

Steve inhales sharply. “Because they think I killed him.” Tony’s silent, for once. Steve gets up and grabs his coat. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Tony asks.

“For not asking me whether I did.”

***

“‘I will split up my father’s empire.’” Steve starts out the next day. All of them are sitting in front of Steve in a semi-circle, holding copies of the same file, as if Steve is reading to a class and his students are following along. “Now, this is obviously an idea that Loki himself would choose to reject, which is why we need to plant it deep in his subconscious.” He puts down his own file and stands up, still facing his teammates. “The subconscious is motivated by emotion, right? Not reason. We need to find a way to translate this into an emotional concept.”

“How do you translate business strategy into emotion?” Clint asks.

Steve looks at an old newspaper clipping about Loki and his father. “That’s what we’re here to figure out, right? Loki’s relationship with his father is..stressed, to say the least.” He says.

“Well, can we run with that?” Natasha says from the desk chair, looking at the file to Steve. She closes her file, slowly spinning, still facing Steve. “We suggest breaking up his father’s company as a ‘screw you’ to the old man.”

“No, because I think positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We all yearn for reconciliation, for catharsis. We need Loki Laufeyson to have a positive emotional reaction to all this.” Steve says.

“All right, well, try this. Um..’My father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.’” Natasha says, rolling her totem, a small hourglass filled with red sand between her fingers.

“That might work.” Steve says, sipping at his coffee.

“Might? We’re gonna need to do a little better than ‘might.’” Clint says.

“Aw, thank you for your contribution, Clint.” Natasha says, turning in her chair towards Clint, smirking.

“Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Nat.” She doesn’t say anything, just smiles jokingly. “Specificity?”

Steve’s looking at new pictures and articles. “Inception’s not about being specific. When we get inside his mind, we’re gonna have to work with what we find.” He says.

***

Before they go into another dream, Tony shows Bruce and Nat different models, and they agree that, for now, it’s as perfect as it’s gonna be. The seven of them go into a dream, and end up in a downtown intersection, and Tony walks around them, buildings in the distance falling into place slowly. Thor, who’s amazed by simply watching Tony’s work looks around down all four streets. Steve does the same, and listens to Natasha when she speaks.

“On the top level, we open up his relationship with his father and say, ‘I will not follow in my father’s footsteps’. Then the next level down, we feed him, ‘I will create something for myself’.” Natasha is standing in the middle of the circle, and watches as the rest of them look at the architecture surrounding them. “Then, by the time we hit the bottom level, we bring out the big guns.”

“‘My father doesn’t want me to be him’.” Steve says.

“Exactly.”

***

The past four days have been draining; Tony’s been sketching and building models, they’ve all been testing Bruce’s compounds, and the team has finally come up with a plan to suit Thor’s agreement. Tony’s realized that only he and Steve have stayed in the workshop late, so before he leaves, Tony goes to see what Steve’s doing.

Steve’s lying in the lawnchair by the desk, the chair next to him vacant. Bruce must’ve gone to the hotel already. The dream machine is hissing, making Steve’s dream vivid using the tubes in his wrist. Tony decides to be risky, he doesn’t want to feel Steve’s rage right now, yet he sits down and puts the tubes in his wrist, and shares the dream with Steve.

Tony ends up in an old-fashioned cage style elevator. It’s going down, and he sees a little girl’s room, a playhouse on the table, it’s doors open, showing a safe. He spots a button: “B”, but before he can press it, the elevator stops. He can see Steve and Bucky on a couch in a living room; it must be the house they used to live in. Steve is in his smaller body, his real body. The last thing Bucky saw before he died.

Bucky’s brushing his fingers through Steve’s hair, who’s looking at him lovingly, but he looks sad as watches Bucky’s face. “You remember when you asked me to marry you, Stevie?” It’s the first time Tony’s heard his voice. He finds it odd to think that it’s soothing. “I was so disappointed, for like, a second, ‘cause _I_ was gonna ask _you_ , but I couldn’t find a cheap ring.”

Steve chuckles. “Of course, Buck.”

Bucky smiles, kisses Steve’s forehead. “You said you had a dream..”

“That we’d grow old together.” Steve replies. They’re voices are quiet, like they’re trying to hide from the world, and technically they are, even though Tony’s there, watching.

“And we can. You know how to find me..you know what you have to do.” Steve shakes his head gently. Bucky looks at him for almost a minute, then he turns his head to look at Tony, dropping his hands from Steve’s face. His eyes are burning into Tony, his entire body looks like he’s trying to stop himself from going up to the elevator and snapping Tony’s neck. Steve turns look at what Bucky’s scowling at, and Steve gets up and moves towards the elevator.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” Steve says, opening the cage and getting in with Tony.

“I just wanted to know what kind of ‘tests’ you need to do on your own every night.” Tony says, trying not to be condescending. Trying not to tick off Steve, who’s radiating hostility towards him as well.

“This has nothing to do with you.” Steve says.

“This has everything to do with me.” Tony says, crossing his arms. “You’ve asked me to share dreams with me.”

“Not these dreams.” Steve reaches in front of Tony and pushes a random button a couple of times. The elevator goes up, and stops after three levels. He can see Bucky sitting on the sand, with a woman, Peggy, and two children, one bigger than the other, their backs to Steve. They’re building a sandcastle, and Bucky’s talking to them, but they can’t hear him. He’s too far away.

"Who's the woman?" Tony asks.

"Our closest friend, Peggy." Steve replies.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” 

Steve looks down. “This is the only way I can still dream.”

“Why is it so important to dream?” Tony asks. Steve looks at him, then back to Bucky.

“In my dreams..we’re still together.” Bucky stops talking and looks up at them. Steve stares for a moment, then pushes the button ‘3’.

“But..these aren’t just dreams, are they? They’re memories. You said _never_ to use memories, Rogers.” Tony says.

“And I shouldn’t.”

“You’re keeping him alive.”

“No.” Steve whispers.

“You can’t let him go.”

“No. These are moments I regret. Moments I turned into dreams so I could change them.”

“What do you have buried down there that you regret?” Tony asks, his finger almost pressing the button ‘B’. Steve grabs his wrist and pushes it away.

“There’s only one thing I need you to understand about me..” Steve trails off, and opens the cage when the elevator stops. The two of them walk down a long hallway towards a kitchen, a thin man in a business suit is leaning against the counter and holding a thin envelope.

“This is your house?” Tony asks, seeing the couch Steve was sitting on just moments ago.

“Mine and Bucky’s, yes.” Steve replies.

“Where is he?” Tony asks, masking his fear of Bucky being protective over Steve. Tony hopes that he was as nice in real life like Clint said he was.

“He’s already dead.” Steve looks out the window in the kitchen, and looks at a small blonde-haired girl crouched down, a sand bucket next to her. “That’s Sharon. My niece. She’s found something, maybe a worm.” Then, a older girl, with brown hair runs into view. “And there’s Becca. Bucky’s younger sister.” She crouches next to Sharon and they talk indistinctly about whatever is in the grass. “I thought about calling out, so they’d turn and smile..but I’m out of time-”

The thin man in a wrinkled business suit holds out the small envelope. “Right now, or never, Mr. Rogers.” He says, holding out the envelope that contains a one-way plane ticket. Steve turns back to the window. “Then I panic that I’ll always wish I’d see them turn, that I can’t waste this chance...I want to call out to them, but the moment’s passed.” Steve continues. He doesn’t know that Tony’s started to walk backwards, slowly, towards the elevator. Steve looks down. “If I’m ever gonna see their faces again, I’ve got to finish this job.”

Tony slams the cage doors shut and hits the ‘B’ button, and Steve turns back worried. Tony starts to descend in the elevator, anxious about whatever he’s gonna see down there. He stares forward to see what he passes. He reaches the girl’s bedroom again, then a freight train passes, making him squint so sand doesn’t get in his eyes. Then the elevator stops.

Tony sees a hotel suite, that looks like there was a fight of some sort. There’s a lamp that’s been knocked over, the bed’s sheets halfway torn off the mattress, a room service cart knocked over, food littering the floor. There’s a broken champagne bottle, and broken glass. He steps out of the elevator slowly, looking around and not seeing Bucky. Then he steps on a halfway broken champagne flute, the sound ringing throughout the room. Tony looks at it, and starts to worry.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asks. He’s sitting on the couch next to the lamp that’s been knocked over. He’s wearing a suit, the jacket off, and Tony can see metal fingers on his left side. His head whips up to look at him.

Bucky stands up and walks towards him, slowly. Tony’s voice gets stuck in his throat. “My name is-”

“I know who you are. What are you doing here?”

“Trying to understand.” Tony says, backing up slowly. He stops. Bucky walks around him slowly, looking him up and down.

“How could you understand? Do you know what it is to be a lover? To be half of a whole?”

“No.” Tony breathes.

“I’ll tell you a riddle. You’re waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you don’t know for sure…” Bucky walks back towards the side table where the lamp was knocked over. “But it doesn’t matter. How can it not matter to you where that train will take you?” Bucky asks, scowling again.

“Because you’ll be together.” Steve says, opening the elevator doors and walking in.

“How could you bring him _here_ , Steve?” Bucky says, not believing that Steve would betray him like this.

“What is this place?” Tony asks. Steve walks in front of him.

“A hotel. We spent our anniversaries in this suite.” Steve says, not taking his eyes off Bucky.

“What happened here?” Steve starts to push Tony back slowly. Bucky picks up a different broken champagne flute, the one next to the lamp. It’s been broken enough that it looks like a shiv, or something you’d see in movies after someone breaks a bottle over a bad guy’s head.

Steve and Tony rush into the elevator and Steve slams the cage door shut and hides Tony behind him. Bucky smashes himself against the door, yelling. “YOU PROMISED! YOU SAID WE’D BE TOGETHER!” Bucky yells, his voice rough.

“We can! We will! But I need you to stay here for now-” Steve says, trying to calm Bucky down.

“YOU SAID WE’D GROW OLD TOGETHER!” Bucky shakes the cage. Steve punches a button and the elevator starts to ascend.

“I’ll come back. I need you to stay here on your own for now. Just while I do this job. Then we can be together-” Bucky is breathing heavily, and stares at Steve until Bucky is out of sight.

***

Steve and Tony wake up, and Steve is scowling at him. He stands up and pulls the tubes out of his own wrist, then Tony’s, closing up the briefcase. Tony can’t believe what he just saw. First, Bucky and Steve being careful with each other, letting everything go. Secondly, how protective Bucky became, how hostile, how his eyes burned into Tony. When he learned that Steve hurts himself so he can dream, or so he says. Steve’s most regretful memories, the last one literally looking like a disaster, how Bucky seemed so betrayed and lonely and crazy all at the same time. Tony wonders what must’ve happened to Bucky for him to be this way in dreams.

Tony leans forward in his chair to try and get Steve’s attention. “You think you can just _build_ a prison of memories to lock him in?! You think that’s going to contain him?! What the ever-loving fuck, Rogers?” Steve just stares at him. He tries to think what to say, besides, ‘Then you fucking watch your spouse die when you couldn’t do shit about it! How lonely it gets. How heartbreaking it gets. How guilty is makes you feel.’ Then the lights come on. Thor and Clint are standing in the doorway, their suitcases in hand. Both Steve and Tony look at them.

“Laufey just died in Sydney.” Thor says.

“When’s the funeral?” Steve asks.

“Thursday. In Los Angeles.”

“Loki will accompany the body Tuesday. We have to move.”

Tony tries to be subtle and tugs on Steve’s jacket. His voice is low when he speaks. “I’m coming with you.”

“No. I promised Erskine.” Steve whispers.

“The team needs _someone_ in there who understands what you’re struggling with. If you don’t want it to be me, then you _need_ to show Clint what I just saw.” Steve clenches his jaw. He turns to Thor. “Get us another seat on the plane.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated uwu  
> Next: First Layer of the Dream: Part One


	7. Chapter 7

Bucky remembers meeting Steve for the first time. The kid was six, fighting some middle schoolers in the back of the schoolyard in Brooklyn, where they grew up. The older kids kept wailing on Steve, and every time he’d get up, they’d knock him down again. Bucky never understood why, even when Steve said that if you run, you’ll never stop, but if you stay there, fight, they’ll give up. The first time Bucky saved him, the Steve got so mad, yet was so grateful. And that’s how it played out until Bucky went overseas.

The first time, Bucky had kicked two of them in the ass, and punched the other in the mouth. “Pick on someone your own size.” He said, and the boys ran their asses home. And that kept going until Bucky made the hard decision to go overseas after graduating. The first time, Bucky had asked where Steve lived, so he could get home safe, and get cleaned up. This kept happening until Steve’s mother Sarah died. Then Bucky had taken care of him ever since, and then they met Dr. Erskine, who took Steve in, since Bucky still had his foster family.

Two years before Sarah died, when Bucky was 15 and Steve was 14, they finally realized their feelings for each other, but decided to keep it a secret, even though Sarah was observant enough to know what was going on, and she secretly applauded them for it. A few days before her death, near the end of July, after Steve’s birthday, she told them to keep great care of each other like they always did, and that she loved them and that she loved them being together. Steve blushed all over his body, and Bucky just chuckled.

That was one thing he loved. Steve being a full-body blusher. It would sometimes happen when one of Bucky’s girlfriends was around and she actually talked to him, instead of ignore him, like all the rest, because of what he looked like. Steve had stopped growing in the 8th grade, and Bucky stopped his senior year of high school. When they realized their feelings for each other, everyone at school had always asked Bucky why he didn’t have a girlfriend, and all he told them was that he had to focus on school and not girls. He was a way better liar than Steve.    

He remembers the first time they kissed. It was like nothing you could ever imagine; something that you forget immediately after the moment has passed. It was at Bucky’s house, when no one was home, and they were trying to study but couldn’t focus, except only each other, sharing the enclosed space. It was raining outside, and they were on Bucky’s bed, holding each other, not wanting to let go. They did though, when they heard a key in the door; it was time for Steve to go home anyway.

He remembers how scared he was about his choice to serve his country. How Steve was there to console him, to hold him, to make Bucky not feel anything horrible in his gut. Bucky would be gone in August, and it was Steve’s 18th birthday when he felt the pressure. That’s when Steve gave him a gift. Something he’d never think he’d get. They’d been watching the fireworks, since Steve’s birthday was on the Fourth of July. Steve has made him stand up on the picnic blanket, where they were lying, watching the fireworks. They stood together, hand in hand, then Steve spoke words that Bucky would never forget.

“I had a dream, Buck. That we’d grow old together.” Steve had said, then got on one knee and pulled out a box with a ring in it. Bucky just nodded, and after Steve has slipped the ring on his left hand, he helped Steve up, and kissed him as hard as he could. The finale of the fireworks ended.

By August, Bucky, wasn’t scared anymore, but the second he got on the plane he became homesick. He and Steve had gotten married, August 7th. Even though they were now spouses, Steve couldn’t be there to watch him go, but he was able to drive him, and they had sat quietly in the car for a few moments. Bucky had kissed him as hard as possible, trying to remember what Steve’s hair felt like, his lips, his skinny body, his voice, the ring on his left hand. They don’t regret not having a huge, glamorous ceremony, so they just had a party with the few friends and family they had. Their only regret was that Sarah wasn’t able to be there.

Bucky remembers tucking a picture of Steve in his pocket, next to his heart, and getting on the plane, next to 19 other soldiers, either going out for the first time, or going out again, not used to living a normal life. Bucky hoped that when he got back, _if_ he got back, he’d be able to be normal again. Grow old with Steve. Live the life. He had settled in the base in Afghanistan, his bunkmates being Sam Wilson, a pararescue on his second tour, Clint Barton, a master marksman on his second tour, and a first-timer, Dum Dum Dugan, who was as cocky as Bucky had been.

Bucky, Clint, and Dum Dum would go out on missions during the day, maybe having to stay overnight in the field. Bucky remembers becoming accustomed to this life; he wasn’t scared, he just wanted to get this over with, to be home with Steve. If all of his bunkmates were back at base for the night, they’d play cards and reminisce over their lives before going on tour. Dum Dum talked about his girlfriend, a blonde, as pretty as ever. _But you’ve never seen Steve._ Bucky had thought, and took out his picture, carefully unfolding it, the photograph thin from opening and closing it so many times. Sam talked about his former partner, who died in combat, and they all toasted Riley, his right wing-man. Clint talked about a Russian girl, red hair, red lips, and how she always had a comeback against Clint’s remarks. They’d laugh. Bucky remembers being put on the spot, since they talked in a circle. All he did was show them the picture of Steve.

It used to be a picture of him, Steve, and Sarah celebrating one of Steve’s birthdays. Bucky had photoshopped it, so it was only Steve, in all his glory. They all smiled. “We uh, we just got married a few months back.” Bucky had said, and they cheered, and opened up a new pack of beers. Clint had looked at the picture more closely. “Hey, I know that kid. I talked to him at the VA, way back when. He asked what being in the Army was like.” Clint had said. Bucky doesn’t remember what he felt when Clint had said that. “He was just worried about you, man. Didn’t know you were together is all.”

Almost a year later, they were walking down an abandoned street, guns in hand, with a Humvee next to them and a tank behind. He and another man were on one side of the car, Dum Dum and a two-tour soldier on the other. All together, there were 15 soldiers in the street, observing all around them. Bucky remembers regret; he didn’t see a kid throw a grenade under the Humvee, which killed the kid behind him, and Bucky had got his left arm pinned under a wheel. He doesn’t remember the pain.

He faintly remembers medics surrounding him, putting him on a plane, and sending him home. He barely remembers being pushed on a gurney down a hallway with steel doors, the fluorescent lights giving him a headache. He can’t speak. He wants to know where he is, what happened to him; he wants to take out the picture of Steve, but he’s restrained.

He remembers being placed in a chair, weird looking medics with the same tentacle-symboled pins on their shirts. They were rushing about, checking his vitals. A man to his left was attaching a metal arm to him. Bucky had to think. He hears explosions in his ears. He hears himself screaming, part of his left arm gone. Now, there’s a metal arm replacing it, which attaches up on his shoulder, connecting with his spine.

He remembers looking over, seeing an old man in his late 60’s, maybe early 70’s, in a business suit. He can’t remember the guy’s name, Price, he thinks. Pierce. That sounds about right. Bucky doesn’t remember what the guy says to him, but he gestures to Bucky’s left. There was a window, and Steve was standing behind it, his hands against the glass, his face filled with concern and relief all at the same time. He’s in his adorably stupid jacket that’s two sizes bigger than him, that’s been worn for years. Bucky doesn’t know if he smiled at him, because something goes on his head, and he’s shocked, knocked unconscious.

The next thing he remembers is Steve’s face over him, watching intently. He smiled softly at Bucky. Months after that, with Steve taking care of him, helping him recreate memories, helping him get home mentally, Steve suggested something called ‘dream sharing.’ Bucky had agreed to it, and together they dreamt. When Bucky had woken up, he lost his mind again, but he couldn’t let Steve know. He remembers destroying their hotel suite on their anniversary while Steve was out getting him flowers, or some shit. He remembers peach-colored silk curtains billowing in the wind, and Steve’s face poking out at him, concerned. He remembers the two of them talking. Then he closes his eyes. He remembers-

***

Thor is watching their bags being put on Loki’s personal jet through the window, and Steve walks up to him. They watch a coffin being loaded as well. Steve thinks of Bucky. “If I get on this plane and you haven’t taken care of things..when we land I go to jail for the rest of my life.” Steve says.

“Complete the job en route, I make one phone call from the plane..you’ll have no trouble clearing immigration.” Thor replies. The eight of them, including Loki, board the private jet. Steve finds his seat, the one behind Loki’s, even though he’s the first one on. Tony’s seat his across from him, and he gives Steve a concerned look. Thor is next to Loki’s seat, and Bruce’s seat is the one in front of Loki’s. Clint’s chair is behind Tony’s, and he’s next to Natasha, who’s second to last to board. She enters, stuffs her bag in the overhead bin, blocking Loki from getting to his seat. He’s wearing black, and when he finally becomes impatient he huffs, and Natasha squeezes against her seat so Loki can brush past her and sit in front of Steve. Once Loki’s taken off his suit jacket and gets comfy in his chair, Natasha hands Steve his passport. He looks at it, sees Loki’s picture.

They all buckle up and Steve closes his eyes while the jet hurtles down the runway and ascends into the air. He looks up, waiting for the seatbelt sign to flicker off. Once it does, Steve leans forward and taps Loki. “Excuse me?”

Loki looks up. “Yes?”

“I think this is yours..” Steve says, handing him Loki’s passport. Loki pats his pocket and doesn’t feel it in there.

The flight attendant Thor has bought out is a beautiful woman with blonde hair. She comes up the aisle. “Would you gentlemen care for a drink?” She asks.

“Water.” Steve says, giving her a small smile, since she barely knows what she’s in for. At least she won’t go to prison when this plane lands.

“Uh, same.” Loki says. He holds up his passport to Steve and nods. “Well, thank you.”

“Not a problem. Look, I couldn’t help noticing your name. You’re not related to _the_ Laufey?” Steve asks, and Loki seems to not bother trying to figure out if Steve’s lying or not. Steve seems harmless enough to him though, so Loki nods. “Actually, he was my father.” He says.

“I’m very sorry for your loss. He was a very inspiring man.” Steve says. The flight attendant brings their drinks on a metal tray, and Steve uncaps a vial filled with a white liquid and pours it into Loki’s drink, handing it to the man. “To Laufey. May he rest in peace, yeah?” They clink their glasses together and Loki gives him a small smile, and sips at his water. He doesn’t know that Steve’s watching him intently, to make sure that the liquid puts Loki’s ass to sleep.

Fifteen minutes later, Loki’s slumped in his chair, and Steve stands up to pull out a blanket from the overhead bin and throws it on Loki’s lap, who doesn’t stir. He signals at the flight attendant, who unlocks a cupboard in the galley, where the briefcase with the dream machine in it is. She hands it to Clint, who brings it to the middle of the group. All of them reach for a tube and tape, inserting it into their own wrists, and they close their eyes. Steve puts a tube into Loki’s wrist before he settles down. Bruce finishes off his champagne and settles in his seat, nodding to the woman, who pushes the yellow button, the machine starting hiss. Steve’s hand falls off the arm of his chair.

***

Bruce is standing at a corner of an intersection, holding his jacket closed with one hand while the other holds the dream machine, soaked with rain. A red sedan pulls over, and he gets in with the silver briefcase he’s holding. Steve’s in the driver’s seat, in his bigger body, and it’s still strange for Bruce to see. Thor and Clint are squeezed in the back with Bruce.

Clint taps at the window, looking out at the downpour of rain. He looks over Thor to see Bruce. “Couldn’t you have peed before you went under?”

“Sorry.” Bruce says, his voice thick with sarcasm. He doesn’t like being angry, so in exchange, he says his words in a sarcastic tone.

The car stops again, and Natasha gets in the front seat. She’s soaked even more than Bruce, and runs her fingers through her shoulder-length red hair, so it stops sticking to her face. “Bit too much free champagne before takeoff, Bruce?” She says.

“Ha, ha.”

Steve gets back into the city’s traffic. “At least we know he’ll be looking for a cab in this.” Steve says, finding a taxi cab quickly, and rear ends the cab. The cabdriver, a Middle Eastern man, gets out of the taxi, yelling at Steve. He walks up to their car, and Steve rolls down the window. “Hey, asshole! Why don’t you try driving without your thumb up your-” The guy stops, since he sees Steve’s silenced pistol, aimed at the guy’s crotch. “Walk away.” Steve says, and the guy runs onto the sidewalk, out of view.

Clint and Thor run through the rain to get in the guy’s cab, and Clint drives forward, Steve following. Before he starts looking for Loki, Clint turns off the horrible music playing on the radio. He lights the cab’s sign when he sees Loki, who’s standing on the curb talking into his cellphone, probably a business call. He hangs up and jumps into the cab. “Third and Market. Snappy.” Loki says, looking out the window for only a second, until Natasha gets in from the other side. “What’re you doing?!”

Natasha shrugs. “Sorry, I thought it was free.” She says, then gestures between the two of them. “Maybe we could share.”

“Maybe not. Hey, can you let me out?” He asks, but Thor turns around in the passenger’s seat, pointing a gun at him. Loki looks at the gun, and then at Natasha, who smiles and shrugs. Loki leans back in his seat, defeated. “Great.” Clint begins driving again, and Loki pulls out a very expensive wallet, tossing it to Natasha. “There’s 500 dollars in there. And the wallet itself is worth more than that. For that you ought to at least drop me at my stop.”

“I’m afraid we-” Natasha starts to say, but a shot shatters the window by Natasha, another near Thor. “Get us out of here!” Clint hits the gas, but Natasha sees a black SUV drive up past them, two passengers hanging out the windows with assault rifles. The SUV blocks their path.

A block behind, Steve hears the gunfire right when he finds Tony walking on the sidewalk, looking for his teammates. Steve reaches over and pushes the passenger door open, yelling “Come on!” to Tony. He gets in, and Steve is only able to drive forward about twenty feet, before they’re hit by a freight train, which pushes their car out of traffic. Steve watches the freight train pass; it seems endless, a constant reminder that he still can’t let go of Bucky.

Clint tries to drive backwards, but another car pulls up behind him, the projections getting out and shooting. “Cover him!” Clint yells, crushing a projection wearing tactical gear against the other car. Natasha shoves Loki’s head down and puts a sack over his head, making him stay down. He’s already covering his head for protection. Bullets continue to be shot at their cab, and the three of them try to shoot as many projections as they can, but more keep showing up, all of them looking the same, in the black tactical gear that has ‘STRIKE’ on it, in fainted white paint.

“This wasn’t in the design.” Tony says from the other car, watching the train pass. By the time it does, Steve backs up and turns onto another street. Another guy from the first SUV gets out and shoots and the cab’s windshield, and it crumbles into a million tiny pieces. Behind them, there’s more shots being fired, breaking the back window, and Clint yells for Natasha to shoot him, and she gets the projection twice in the throat. Once Clint gets them out of the tiny war zone, he catches his breath.

“Everybody okay?” He asks. Natasha breathes and leans back. “Yeah, we’re all good back here. Loki might be car-sick, though.” She replies.

“Thor?” Clint asks, and looks over at him. The guy who seemed practically bulletproof has blood soaking his shirt, on the left side of his chest. He’s slightly slumped in his chair, and his breathing is laboured. Clint drives faster to their rendezvous point, and sees Steve catch up to them. They reach a warehouse that’s behind a large power plant. The cab gets to the building first, and Clint stops the car, so Natasha can get out and pull open the warehouse door, so both cars can pull through.   

When they stop the cars, Natasha takes Loki from the van and moves into the bathroom, and Steve gets out of the sedan, furious. “Clint what the-”

Clint and Tony pull Thor out of the cab’s front seat and lay him on the ground. There’s more blood on his shirt. “Oh Christ. Is he dying?!” Steve asks, crouching down and checking his pulse.

“I don’t know. What happened back there? Where were you?” Clint asks, putting pressure on Thor’s wound.

Steve brushes his fingers through his hair. “We were blocked by a freight train.”

Clint looks at Tony. “Why would you put a train crossing in a downtown intersection?”

“I didn’t!” Tony says, looking at Thor, and then back to Clint.

Steve snaps. “Why were we all ambushed, Clint?! Those weren’t regular projections-they’ve been trained for God’s sake!”

“How could they be trained?” Tony asks.

“Loki’s has an extractor teach his mind to defend itself. His subconscious is militarized. It should’ve shown in the research-” Clint says.

“So why the hell didn’t it?!” Steve yells.

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down-you were meant to check Loki’s background thoroughly. You can’t make this mistake-we’re not prepared for this kind of violence-”

“Rogers, we’ve dealt with sub-security before. We just have to be more-”

“This wasn’t part of the plan, Clint!” Steve points at Thor. “He’s _dying_!”

Natasha walks up to them and cocks her gun. “So we put him out of his misery.” She points it at Thor’s head.

“No.” Steve says.

“He’s in agony. Let’s wake him up-” Steve pushes Natasha, harsher than he meant to, but she’s a strong woman, even when Steve’s almost a foot taller than her and way stronger.

“No! It won’t wake him up.”

“What do you mean, it won’t wake him up? When you die in a dream you wake up.”

“Not from this. We’re too heavily sedated to wake up that way.” Bruce says, trying to stay out of the drama.

Natasha looks at Bruce, then Steve. “So what happens if one of us dies?”

Steve closes his eyes and turns away from the group. “That person doesn’t wake up. Their mind drops into Limbo.” Steve says.

“Limbo?” Tony asks.

Clint stands up, his eyes locked on Steve. “Unconstructed dream space.” Clint says, replying to Tony’s question.

“What’s down there?”

“Raw, infinite subconscious. Nothing there but what was left behind by anyone on the team who’s been trapped there before.” Clint says, stepping closer to Steve. “Which is just Steve.”

“How long would we be stuck there?”

“You couldn’t even think about trying to escape until the sedation eases-” Bruce says.

“How long?” Natasha asks, crossing her arms, leaning against the sedan.

“Decades-it would be infinite-I don’t know! Ask Steve-he’s the one who’s been there before!”

Natasha gets into Steve’s line of view. “Great. So now we’re stuck in Loki’s mind battling it out with his private army, and if we get hit we’re stuck in Limbo ‘til our brains turn into scrambled egg?”

Steve doesn’t say anything. Thor breaks the silence by groaning and grabbing his chest. “Let’s just get him upstairs.” Clint says, and everyone except Steve moves.

Thor is on an old desk, surrounded by the rest of the team. Clint motions to Tony. “Hold this. Firm pressure.” Clint turns to Steve. “You knew the risks and you didn’t tell us.”

“There wasn’t meant to be any risk. We weren’t supposed to be dealing with a load of gunfire.” Steve says, his arms crossed.

“You had no right.”

“It’s the only way you can go three layers deep, Clint.”

Clint turns to Bruce. “And you. You went along with this?”

“I trusted him!” Bruce says, pointing at Steve.

“You trusted him? When? When he promised you half his share?”

“No! His whole share. Plus, he told me he’d done it before.”

Clint turns back to Steve. “Oh, yeah? With Bucky? That worked out just great, didn’t it, Steve?” Steve grabs Clint’s jacket. “You don’t know anything about that. This was the only to do this job, Clint. I did what I had to do to get back to my family.”

“So you led us into a war zone with no way out.” Natasha says.

“We have a way out. The kick. We just push on, do the job as fast as possible and get out using the kick.” Steve says.

“Forget it. We go any deeper, we just raise the stakes. I’m sitting it out on this level, boys.”

“You’ll never make it, Nat. Loki’s security is surrounding this place as we speak. The ten hours of flight is a week at this level-you’ll never make it without getting killed. Downwards is the only way forwards. We have to carry on.” Thor groans again, and Steve looks at him. “And we have to do it fast.” Clint and Steve look at each other. “Nat, go get ready. Clint, let’s get in there and soften him up.” Steve says, throwing a balaclava at him.

Natasha had chained him to the radiator in the bathroom, and Steve and Clint walk in, holding their pistols. Loki sighs again. “I’m insured against kidnapping up to ten million-this’ll be simple-”

“No, it won’t.” Steve says, his anger from earlier easing off onto Loki. Loki just looks at him, as if he were still small and non-threatening.

“In your father’s office, below the bookshelves, is his personal safe.” Clint says.

“I never noticed a safe-”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t know the combination.” Steve says.

“Well, I don’t.” Loki says, sounding like an emotional teenager.

“We have it on good authority that you do.” Clint says.

“Whose?” Steve walks out of the bathroom and back into the main room, where Bruce and Natasha are. Natasha is sitting in front of a three-winged mirror.

Bruce is fishing through Loki’s wallet. “Five hundred dollars, this cost?”

“What’s inside?” Natasha asks.

“Cash, cards, ID..and this-” Bruce holds out a snapshot. Natasha recognizes it. It’s the same picture that Loki had put on Laufey’s side table, the one that was knocked over. Steve enters, the balaclava in his hand. Natasha hands him the picture. “Useful.” She says.

Steve puts the picture in his pocket, and watches Natasha look at her reflection at three different angles. The myriad reflections of Natasha turn into Selvig. “You’re on. You’ve got an hour.” Steve says.

“An hour?” Natasha says, turning around to Steve, knocking on the table. “I was supposed to have all night to crack him.”

“And Thor wasn’t supposed to get shot. You’ve got an hour-get something we can use.” Natasha turns from the mirror as Selvig. She glances at her watch and screams as if she’s being tortured, yet Selvig’s voice comes out of her mouth.

***

“What’s that?” Loki asks, his eyes wide.

“Good authority.” Clint says, his face still covered, standing over him.

Another scream echoes. “Selvig?!” Loki looks up at Clint. “Make them stop-”

“The combination.”

“I don’t know it!”

“Why would Selvig tell us you did?”

“Just. Just let me talk to him-I’ll find out.” Moments later, Steve comes back, his face covered, with a bruised and bloody Selvig, who he handcuffs to a metal bracket on the side of the sink. “You’ve got an hour. Get talking,” Steve says. He and Clint leave the bathroom. Clint stays outside of the bathroom, and Steve goes to the room with Thor and Tony.

Selvig breathes. “They’ve had me for two days. They’ve got someone with access to your father’s office and they’re trying to open his safe-they thought I’d know the combination, but I _don’t-_ ”

“Neither do I, Uncle Erik.”

Selvig puts on a confused face. “Laufey told me that after he passed away only you would be able to open it.”

“He never gave me any combination.”

Selvig pretends to think. Then he realizes something. “He did, he just didn’t tell you that it was a combination.”

“What, then?”

“Something only you would know. Some meaningful combination of numbers from your experiences with Laufey-”

“We didn’t _have_ a lot of meaningful experiences together.”

“Perhaps after your mother died..”

“After my mother died, I went to him in my grief. You know what he told me? ‘There’s really nothing to be said, Loki’.”

“He always had a hard time being emotional-”

“I was _eleven_ , Uncle Erik.”

Selvig sighs. “He loved you, Loki. In his own way.”

“‘In his own way?’ At the end he called me to his deathbed. He could barely speak, but he took the trouble to say one last thing to me. He pulled me close..I could make out only one word. ‘Disappointed’.” Selvig doesn’t say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They got married on my birthday (I had to). Next: First Layer of The Dream: Part Two


	8. Chapter 8

Steve walks into the room where Thor and Tony are. Steve looks down at Thor, who’s breathing fast and shallow. “How’s he doing?” Steve asks. 

“He’s in a lot of pain.” Tony replies.

Steve takes Thor’s hand and looks him in the eye. “When we get down to the next level, the pain will be less intense.” 

Tony’s voice is quiet. “And if he dies?”

“His conscious mind will drop out of the dream. He’ll be trapped in Limbo for a  _ lifetime… _ ”

“What will that do to him?”

“When he wakes..his mind could be completely gone.” 

“When..when we wake I will still honor our arrangement..” Thor says. 

Steve looks down at Thor sadly. “Thor, when you wake up you might not even remember that we  _ had _ an arrangement. You’ll have forgotten this world. Limbo will be your reality. Lost there so long, you’ll have to become an old man..” 

“Filled with regret?”

“Waiting to die alone, yes.”  _ Just like Steve is planning to do. _

“Then I’ll take the chance and come back. And we’ll be young men together again.” Thor smiles weakly. Steve nods at him, and turns to Tony.

“When were you trapped in Limbo?” Tony asks. Steve doesn’t say anything, so Tony pulls him away from Thor. “Rogers, you might have convinced the rest of this team to carry on with the job. But they don’t know the truth.”

“What truth?” Steve asks.

“The truth that at any minute you might bring a  _ freight train _ through the wall. The truth that Bucky is bursting through your subconscious. The truth that as we go deeper into Loki, we’re also going deeper into you-and I’m not sure we’re going to like what we find there.” Steve stares at Tony, not knowing whether to be mad again, or give in to his sadness that he’s held in for so long. “This is not just about Loki, it’s about you. Tell me what happened to you and Bucky. Trapped in Limbo.” Steve thinks this through. 

“I was on a job. Bucky had just gotten back from the war and wanted to dream, build new things. Projections weren’t giant assholes either. Exploring dreams within dreams. But we didn’t understand how your mind can turns hours into years. How you can get trapped. Trapped so deep that when you wash up on the shore of your subconscious..”  _ Bucky lies on the sand, the shore of their subconscious. He stares at the cloudless sky and waves wash over him, repeatedly. The land around them is clear, like a plain. He gets up to help Steve out of the waves, who keeps getting hit by the strong water repeatedly.  _ “You can lose track of what’s real.” 

“How long were you stuck?” Tony asks. 

Steve pauses. Then looks at Tony. “Something like fifty years.” 

Tony stares at him, eyes wide. He looks so young, like a child. “How could you stand it?”  _ Bucky and Steve are kneeling on the sand, far enough away from the waves that the foam does not reach them. They build blocks out of sand, smiling. It’s just them. No war, no hateful looks pointed their way. It’s peaceful. _

“We built. We created a whole world for ourselves..”  _ Bucky and Steve walk through a deserted city, a beautiful one that they built together.  _ “It’s not so bad at first, being gods. The problem is knowing that it’s not real. It became impossible for me to live like that.”

“But not for him?” 

“He accepted it. At some point...”  _ Bucky walks through a girl’s room, Becca’s, and opens a doll house, revealing a safe, which is empty. He puts the spinning top in, and locks it away, closing the doll house.  _ “He’d decided to forget that our world wasn’t real.”

“And when you finally woke up?”

“To wake from that? From decades lived? To be old souls thrown back into youth? It was hard. At first Buck seemed okay, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t be okay. Even though he lived through war, and how our dreams were peaceful..I started to realize something was wrong. I’d see him with his thousand-yard stares..he’d stop cutting vegetables on the cutting table and stare at the knife..stuff like that. Finally he admitted it. This idea he was possessed by. This simple little idea that changed everything..” Steve trails off. 

“What was it?”

Steve tries to keep it together. So far, it’s being going well. “That our world was not real. No matter what I did, no matter what I said, he was convinced that we were still in a dream. That we needed to wake up again. That to get home we’d have to kill ourselves.”

Tony’s appalled by this. “What about your family?” Steve looks away. 

Steve inhales sharply. “He..he believed they weren’t real. That our family was waiting. Somewhere above..”

\--

Steve ushers Sharon and Becca into another room and closes the door. Peggy wasn’t there that week. “Calm down, Buck-”

“They’re projections, Steve. Your dreams. I’m their family-don’t you think I can tell the difference?!” 

Steve remembers bitter tears threatening to stream down his face.  _ Maybe he should stop holding it back. Maybe Bucky might get out of his phase. _ Steve remembers thinking. “If it’s my dream then why can’t I control it? Why can’t I stop this?!”

“You don’t know you’re dreaming!”

“You keep telling me I am-”

“And you don’t believe me!”

\--

“He was certain.” Steve continues, placing his palms flat against the table. “But he loved me too much to go without me. So he made a plan..”  _ Steve walks down the 20th floor hallway of the hotel, holding flowers and checking his key card for the door number of their suite.  _ “For our anniversary..”

\--

Steve walks into the lavish hotel suite, immediately noticing the disheveled bedsheets, and how it looks like a crime scene. He takes two steps forwards and steps on a broken champagne flute. He looks down to see what he’s stepped on, and notices the spin top next to his foot in the carpet. He’s confused, feels a chill run up his spine, and realizes that the window is open, the silk peach-colored curtains blowing softly, like waves. 

He puts down the flowers and walks slowly to the window. Bucky is across from him, sitting on the ledge of the window, just out of arm’s reach. Bucky’s wearing his finest suit, the jacket off, his tie loose. Steve can see his metal fingers glinting in the moonlight. Bucky’s smiling at him. 

“Join me.” Bucky says. 

Steve braces himself, putting his hands on the sides of the window, looking out. “Buck, come back inside.” 

“No. I’m going to jump. And you’re coming with me.” Bucky says calmly. 

“No, I’m not. This is  _ real _ -if you jump, you’re not going to wake up, you’re to  _ die _ . Let’s go back inside and talk about this, please.” 

“We’ve talked enough.” Bucky says, kicking off a shoe and watching it drop into the darkness below. “Come out onto the ledge or I’ll jump right now.” Steve nows he means it. Steve agrees, and slowly sets himself halfway inside, halfway on the ledge. He looks down at the drop, his heart racing. “I’m asking you to take a leap of faith.”

“I can’t do that, Buck. I can’t leave our family. The ones that are  _ alive _ , the ones who have taken care of me, of you, of us. I can’t leave our family.”

“If I go without you, they’ll take you away from them, anyway.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I filed a letter with our attorney, explaining how I’m fearful for my safety, how you threatened to kill me.” Steve looks back at the wrecked hotel suite and starts to panic. “I love you, Steve. I’ve freed you from the guilt of choosing to leave them. We’re going home to our real family.”

“Our family is here, Buck.”

Bucky closes his eyes, while Steve looks for a way to reach him. “You’re waiting for a train-”

“NO! BUCK, NO, YOU CAN’T!”

“A train that will take you far away-”

“DON’T DO THIS!”

“You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can’t know for sure-”

“GODDAMN IT, BUCKY DON’T!”

“But it doesn’t matter-”

“NO!”

“Because you’ll be together-” Bucky slips off the ledge and falls to his death, Steve screaming himself hoarse. 

“JESUS CHRIST, BUCKY! NO!” Steve yells, crying and looking down, trying to hold himself up against the window pane.

\--

“The letter to the authorities refuted all the claims about his sanity that he knew I’d make..”  _ A thin man stands in his kitchen, holding an envelope with a plane ticket inside to him. ‘Right now, or never, Rogers.’ _ “He’d had himself declared sane by three different psychiatrists. It was impossible for me to explain his madness. So I ran. And I’ve been running ever since, trying to buy my way back to my family.”

“Psychiatrists judged him sane?” 

“He  _ was  _ sane. He was just lost in the labyrinth.”

“Then why should you blame yourself?” Tony asks. 

“Because we were a family. And we had a life I would do anything to get back to now. But that reality wasn’t enough for me back then.”

“It might have been your idea to push the limits, Rogers. But you’re not responsible for the idea that destroyed him. The idea that his world wasn’t real..that was his own idea from his own mind.” Steve remains silent. He’s revealed almost everything.  _ Almost. _ “Your guilt defines him. Powers him. If we’re going to succeed in this, you’re going to have to forgive yourself, and you’re going to have to confront him. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

“You don’t have to do this for me-”

“I’m doing it for the others. They don’t know the  _ risk _ they’ve taken coming in here with you.” Tony pauses. “By the way, who gave you the job?” Steve stops breathing. He takes a few steps back from Tony, his face pale. “Steve?” 

Steve doesn’t know if he should lie or not. He’s told Tony so much, only to complete this job. What if this last piece of information makes Tony recede, taking his trust with him? What if he tells the others? His long-time friends? He has to. Everyone knows when he lies. Even Bucky would pick on him until he told the truth, because Buck wouldn’t hold it against him; wouldn’t love him any less. Steve should. He has to. He has to. He must. He does.

“Alexander Pierce.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Second Layer of The Dream


	9. Chapter 9

Hydra has been on Steve’s ass since their favorite _toy_ killed himself. As if they gave Steve the task to be his handler. A handler to the _monster_ they made Bucky. And it wasn’t because of the new arm. Steve and Peggy were gone for a week, Sharon and Becca with their own families. Steve didn’t know that Bucky had used the dream machine then. That might be why he had taken an interest in it with the first place; why he asked Steve to let him share his dreams with him.

What Steve didn’t know was that Pierce had done something to him; that the tubes connecting to the dream machine made him a madman in his own dreams, by himself. That he had to find and kill projections of famous people, US Presidents, UN Ambassadors, agents of an organization called Shield. In these dreams, he had his own tactical gear, a belt full of weapons: different pistols, knives, and grenades. His face was covered by a mask, but his arm was completely uncovered, with a red star near his shoulder. He had a personal team with him sometimes, they called themselves STRIKE. They weren’t as loaded in weapons, not as perfect with handling them like Bucky could.

One time, he was on a highway that bridges over a street just outside D.C. One of the guys had given him a grenade launcher and he had shot a car that a woman with red hair had been behind, flipping it over the barricade, yet the woman had survived and started shooting at him down below. He had gone to follow her, while the rest of the guys were shooting at a blonde man, and another guy, that looked like Sam, started helping the blonde man.

While he looked for the woman, he started to think. She looked similar to the woman in the picture that Clint had shown him back in Afghanistan. He had dropped the grenade launcher and stopped. The woman came out of nowhere and wrapped her thighs around his neck and he flipped her over a car into the wreckage of a minivan. She started running through the commotion of people, and he had to shoot her anyway. Pierce would know, somehow, somewhere. She fell behind a car and he found her, but the blonde man had thrown a circular red white and blue shield at him. He had caught it, and got a good look at the guy, and almost let the shield slip from his flesh hand.

 _Steve_ . He was bigger, _way_ bigger. Bucky had put down his gun, and was almost about to take off his mask and ask Steve why he was there, but someone had shot Steve. It was Pierce, his face bloody. The STRIKE team had gotten Sam as well, loading his body into a truck. Bucky had looked back to where the woman was-Natasha-yet they had her too. Bucky threw the shield at Pierce, the same time Pierce had shot Bucky, making him startle awake.

A day later, Pierce had contacted Bucky, as a warning. Pierce said that he might make a woman a new asset, getting rid of him, which he couldn't handle. So, he kept going back into dreams, to get this evilness out of him. To stop this brainwashing. By the time he went to Limbo with Steve, he was cured, until he woke up, and a virus had taken over his mind.

***

Steve looks out the window seeing a sniper take a position towards the warehouse behind a power generator. Steve could’ve sworn he saw metal fingers. He just shakes his head in frustration. “We can’t stay here any longer.” He says to Tony, and walks back towards the bathroom that Loki and Natasha are in.

Back in the bathroom, Loki continues to speak with Selvig, the both of them chained up. “These people are going to kill us if we don’t give them combination.” He says.

“They won’t, they’ll try to ransom us-” Loki says.

“I heard them-they’re going to lock us up in a van and drive it into the river.” Selvig says with faux fear.

“What _is_ in the safe?”

“Something for you. Laufey always said it was his most precious gift..a will.”

“His will is with Ronan and Quill.”

“It’s an alternate. It supersedes the other only if _you_ want it to.”

“What does it say?”

“It splits all the component businesses of Laufey Engineering into individual companies, transferring ownership to the boards of those companies..”

“Leaving me nothing?” Loki asks, his handcuff clinking on the radiator.

“A basic living. Nothing more. The entire empire would cease to exist.”

“Destroy my own inheritance? Why would he suggest such a thing?!”

“I don’t know, Loki.” Steve opens the door, his face covered again, followed my Clint.

“Come to your senses?” Steve asks.

“Let us go. I don’t know the combination. Not consciously.” Loki says.

Steve considers this, and opens his phone. Pulls out his gun, pointing it at Loki. “Let’s try instinctively. I have someone standing in your father’s office ready to tap in a combination.” He holds the phone to Loki’s mouth. “Give me the first six numbers that come into your head. Right now.”

“I have no idea-” Yet Loki finally looks scared.

Steve moves his gun towards Selvig. “RIGHT NOW!”

“Okay! Don’t hurt him. Five, two, eight..four, nine, one.” Steve lowers his gun and listens to the phone, then puts it back in his pocket.

“You’ll have to do better than that. Bag ‘em.” Steve says, and Clint puts sacks over their heads, arms behind them. Steve and Clint drag the two of them to the van, and seats Loki. “We’re worth much more to you alive..” Loki tries to bargain again, but Clint uses a dropper to drop a liquid onto Loki’s mask, and his head slumps forwards, knocking him out.

From the back seat, Selvig takes off the sack, revealing Natasha's true form again. “His relationship with his father is much worse than we thought.” She says.

“That helps us?” Clint asks, pulling a sniper rifle from a case by the van.

“The stronger this issues, the more powerful the catharsis.” Steve says. He motions towards Bruce and they go to get Thor.

“But how do you reconcile them if they’re that estranged?”

“I’m working on that.” Natasha replies, getting out of the van. Clint lines up a shot through the window, getting the first two projections. “Well, work fast-Loki’s projections are closing in quick, we need to break out of here before we’re totally boxed in.” Clint says. Behind him, Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Natasha gently put Thor in one the van’s seats. Tony checks Thor's bandages.

Clint opens the door of the warehouse, but he still can’t get the last sniper, who’s been shooting and ducking before Clint can get him. Natasha walks up next to him with a grenade launcher. “Shouldn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, _darling_ -” She says, and lines up her shot against the sniper. She fires, and the sniper explodes into the air. Clint looks at her. She pats him on the shoulder and walks back towards the van, whispering “World’s Master Marksman my ass.”

Clint opens the door wide enough so Bruce can drive through it, then climbs into the van. When they’re in traffic, Clint opens the mechanism case and everyone pulls out their tubes, and Steve inserts Loki’s for him. “Shifting Loki’s antipathy from his father onto Selvig should work.” Steve says.

“We need imagery, the words..” Natasha says from the back.

“So you destroy his one positive relationship?” Tony asks.

“No. We repair his relationship with his father and expose his godfather’s true nature.” Steve says.

“Hell, we should be charging Loki as much as Thor.” Natasha says.

“What about his security?” Clint chimes in.

“We bring in Mr. Charles.” Steve says, inserting his tube to his wrist.

“No.”

“Whoa whoa. Who’s Mr. Charles?” Natasha asks.

“A bad fucking idea, Nat.” Clint says, his eyes glued to Steve.

“Clint, the second we approach Loki in that hotel, they’re gonna mow us down-we run with Mr. Charles like on the Stein job.”

“So you’ve done it before?” Natasha asks, clicking in her seat belt.

“Sure, but it _didn’t_ work. The subject realized he was dreaming and his subconscious tore us to pieces.” Clint says, looking at her.

“You learned a lot, though. Right?” She asks. Nat never gets scared; she’s taught herself that in the lifestyle she’s been living, ever since being a young adult. Her voice doesn’t give anything away, but her eyes do, only if you look closely.

“I’ll need a decoy.” Steve says to Natasha, clicking himself in.

“No problem. How about a pretty young Russian lady who’s lost her accent? I’ve used it before.” She says, her own Russian accent coming in.

“Fine.” Steve looks at the back of the van, out of the window. Two SUV’s are tailing them. Steve turns to Bruce. “I know you’ve got to stay ahead of them, but drive with kid gloves, okay? The world down there is gonna be very unstable-”

“And don’t make the jump too soon-that kick is our only way back, we have to be ready to catch it-” Clint says, patting Bruce’s arm.

“I’ll use the music to let you know when it’s coming, but the rest is up to you.” Bruce says, and Clint puts the dream machine in the front seat. “Everyone ready?” He asks, and gets five nods in return. “Sweet dreams-” He says, and pushes the yellow button.

***

Loki’s in a bar, sitting at the corner by himself, the lights dim above him. He’s been staring into his drink for who knows how long. “Am I boring you?” A woman’s voice reaches his ears. He thinks she’s Russian, but he can’t know for sure. He looks up and he’s stunned to be sitting next to someone so beautiful and sophisticated. She’s in a dark blue dress, her collarbone exposed, but the dress crisscrosses over her chest, with small fake diamonds. “I was telling you my story. I guess it wasn’t to your liking.”

Loki shakes his head. “I uh, I have a lot on my mind.” He says. Some of the projections are staring at him. He can’t figure out why.

\--

Clint and Tony are sitting at a table across the lobby, watching Steve walk towards Loki. Clint gestures towards him. “And there goes Mr. Charles.” He says.

“Who or what, exactly, is Mr. Charles?” Tony asks.

“It’s a gambit designed to turn Loki against his own subconscious.” Tony already understands how this can go both ways, yet it’s only Steve’s life on the line.

\--

Steve approaches the bar, pretending not to notice Loki’s subconscious security watching him closely. He orders a drink subtly and walks towards Loki. “Mr. Laufeyson! Good to see you again. Rod Green, Marketing.” Steve says, holding out his hand, but drops it when he sees the blonde. “And you must be..?”

“Leaving.” She says, pushing a cocktail napkin in front of Loki. “In case you get bored.” She whispers in his ear, then walks away. Steve sees Loki’s Sub-security follow her.

“I think you just got blown off..unless her phone number really does have only six digits.” Loki looks at the napkin. ‘528-491’ is written on it. Loki scoffs.

\--

Back in the lobby, Clint watches the Sub-security follow the blonde woman. He knows it’s Natasha. “..And why don’t you approve?” Tony asks, looking around at the projections who glance towards them.

“Because it involves telling the mark that he’s dreaming. Which involves attracting a lot of attention to us.” Clint replies.

“Didn’t Steve say never to do that?”

“You must’ve noticed by now how much time Steve spends doing things he says never to do.” Clint says, rolling his eyes, since Steve is such an ass.

\--

Steve turns to Loki. "Strange way to make friends.” He says, gesturing towards Loki. “Lifting your wallet, I mean.” Loki pats at his pocket, realizing it’s missing and looks back towards the lobby where the Sub-security is following her. “Goddamn it. The wallet alone’s worth-”

“Five hundred bucks? I know. Don’t worry. My best guys are on it as we speak.” Steve says, occupying a seat by Loki.

“Who did you say you were?” Loki says, giving him a curious look.

“I _said_ I was Rod Green from Marketing-but I’m not. My name is Mr. Charles. I might seem familiar to you. I’m in charge of your security in here."

\--

The blonde woman sees Thor, and pushes him back into the elevator. “Mr. Odinson, can I have a minute?” She pushes him back into the elevator, the doors closing right before the Sub-security can reach her. The blonde fondles at Thor’s lapels, getting close to him. Thor stammers. “I’m sorry, but-” Thor looks over to the mirrors on both sides of the elevator. He looks at myriad of reflections, and three reflections in, he sees Natasha with a halo braid. She’s in a fancy black pant suit, that contrasts from her red lips, but makes her green eyes pop. She winks at him.

Thor pushes her away gently and she chuckles. “Very amusing, Ms. Romanov.” He says.

“You look a bit perkier.” She replies, and then the elevator shakes with a loud rumble.

“Turbulence on the plane.” Thor says.

Natasha shakes her head. “Feels closer. That’s Bruce’s driving.”

\--

The streets are wet due to the pouring rain, and Bruce has the van’s windshield wipers on as fast as possible, making him dizzy. He’s been trying to get the SUV's off his tail this entire time, and now he’s stuck in an alley, having to bump over potholes and hit garbage cans. Bruce looks at the SUV’s that are chasing him in the rearview mirror. He checks his watch and checks the back seats, his sleeping teammates are shaking with the impact, but they’re okay, even Thor, who’s bleeding still.

\--

A tremor that echoes through the bar makes Loki hold his drink harder. He looks at Steve; examining him, trying to place him. “Security? You work for the hotel?” Loki asks.

“No. My specialty is subconscious security.” Steve replies.

“You’re talking about dreams. You’re talking about extraction.”

“Exactly. My job is to protect you..” Behind Loki, Steve watches a waiter drop a champagne flute and hears it smash, the impact ringing into his ears. Outside the bar, he sees Sharon and Becca with their backs turned, but no Bucky. He hates to think it, but _Thank God._ Steve looks around the bar, the projections stare at him, suspiciously. He moves back towards Loki. “My job is to protect you from any attempt to access your mind through your dreams.” The projections lose interest as he continues to speak with Loki.

\--

In the elevator, Natasha pulls out Loki’s wallet, and almost hands it to Thor, before she sees the picture of Loki with his father, the homemade pinwheel in his hand. The elevator doors open, and Natasha gets out, tossing the wallet towards Thor. She wonders how he fits in the elevator, but whatever. “Get off at a different floor and keep moving. Dump the wallet, then meet me in the lobby. The security will try to track it down. We need to buy Rogers a little more time.”

The doors close, and Thor puts the wallet in his pocket, touching the blood that’s starting to soak through his shirt. Then he coughs like a dying man.

\--

Steve looks over Loki’s shoulder, and sees a suited man, possibly a member of the STRIKE team watching him, while another walks in from the lobby. “You’re not safe here.” Steve says, getting up from his bar stool, but Loki doesn’t move. “Trust me. They’re coming for you.” A clap of thunder echoes through the bar, making the bottles on the shelves behind the bartender rattle.

\--

Back on the street, where there’s less traffic than before, the first SUV was able to catch up with Bruce, and the passenger shoots out the back window and the side windows of the van with a shotgun. Bruce shields his head with one hand, preventing glass to get to him. The spray from the rain and wind starts to soak into Clint's hair and clothes, but he doesn’t move from his seat.

\--

The windows behind the bar show a diluted sunset. “Strange weather, huh?” Steve asks, gesturing towards the window, and hurricane-like rain pelts at the window harshly. Loki raises an eyebrow. A tremor runs through the bar and Steve takes a quick glance around the room. “You feel that?”

\--

Clint and Tony are watching the weather outside the hotel from the table they’re sitting at in the lobby. The projections that walk by watch the weather too, puzzled looks on their faces. Then several of them turn to look directly at Clint. “What’s happening?” Tony asks.

“Steve’s drawing Loki’s attention to the strangeness of the dream. That’s making his subconscious look for the dreamer. For me.”

\--

Bruce makes a sharp right turn, and the sleepers lean to one side of the van due to centrifugal force.

\--

The liquid in Loki’s glass rises up to one side of the glass, and Loki stops holding it. He stares at it for a second, confused, then to Steve. “Very odd-the weather, the _gravity_..” Loki looks around the bar and sees that the entire room is set at a 45-degree angle, glasses sliding off tables. _What the shit?!_ Loki thinks. “But I can explain all this. You’ve actually been trained for this.” Steve continues, sitting back down. Loki nods, so Steve leans forward, hiding his cautiousness. If he fucks this up, he’s screwed for life. “Think of the strangeness of the weather, the shifts in gravity. None of this is real. We’re in a dream, Mr. Laufeyson.”

Loki takes another look around the room, then back to Steve. Every one of the projections in the bar look at Steve simultaneously. “The simplest test of what I’m saying is for you to try and remember anything about the way you arrived in this hotel..okay?” Some of the projections look like they’re about to approach Steve. “Breathe. Remember the training. Accept the fact that we’re in a dream. That’s why I’m here protecting you.”

Loki considers this. Then the building slowly arranges itself into alignment. “So _you_..you’re not real?” Loki asks. The projections look away from Steve and resume their chatter, silverware clinking on plates.

“No. I’m a projection of your subconscious. I was put in place to protect you in the event that extractors pulled you into a dream. I believe that’s what has happened.” Steve says. Loki takes this information in. He looks at the undercover STRIKE members in business suits approaching, then nods at Steve.

Steve takes his arm and they walk quickly through the lobby. He sees his family and pauses, only for a second. Then he hurries Loki up the stairs into the men’s bathroom. Loki stumbles in and turns to Steve. He’s pissed. “Hey-” Loki starts, but the first STRIKE member bursts through the door, but Steve pulls out his gun from his jacket pocket, and kicks him to the ground, while the second man comes in, and moves towards Loki. Before he can do anything though, Steve shoots the second man twice in the back, then turns to the first man and shoots him as well.

“Jesus Christ! What are you doing?!” Loki yells. Steve’s checking both men for their weapons, and gives Loki the second man’s pistol. “These men were sent to abduct you.” Steve says. “If I’m going to help you, I need you to be calm.”

“If this is a dream, I have to kill myself and wake up-” Loki says, putting the business end of the gun to his temple.

Steve looks up, concerned, and slowly stands up. “I wouldn’t do that-they’re probably got you sedated. If you pull that trigger, you might not wake up, you might drop into a lower dream state. Mr. Laufeyson, you know all this, you just have to remember it..” Loki lowers his gun, breathing heavily. Upstairs, Thor is followed by a security guard, who’s not being subtle at all. He ducks around the corner, and then starts running, then throws the wallet down a garbage chute. He continues to run, and behind him, the security guard looks down the chute while Thor climbs down the stairs to get back to the lobby.

Down on the fourth floor, Clint leads Tony to a particular room: 491. Clint leads him in, and opens a backpack that has C-4 in it. “So, if everything’s correct, this room should be directly below 528.” Clint says, and Tony nods. Clint moves a potted plant from a table and jumps up on it, placing one explosive on the ceiling. Then he walks over to the dresser on the other side of the room and starts to place another explosive.

From the other side of the room, by the door, Tony is watching. “Do you use a timer?” He asks.

“No, I have to judge it myself. Once you’re all asleep up in room 528, I wait ‘til Bruce starts his kick..”

“How will you know?”

“His music warns me it’s coming, then the van hitting the barrier of the bridge should be unmistakable-that’s when I blow the floor out from underneath us and we get a nice, synchronized kick. Too soon, and we won’t get pulled out; too late and I won’t be able to drop us.”

“Why not?”

“Because the van will be in free fall.” Clint says, finishing the explosive. “I can’t drop us with no gravity.” Clint says, dropping off of the dresser.

“Right.” Tony says.

\--

Steve looks reassuringly at Loki. “What do you remember before this dream?” Steve asks.

Loki furrows his brows, thinking. “Rain..gunfire.. _Uncle Erik._ ” He looks up at Steve, his eyes wide. “Christ-we’ve been kidnapped.”

“ _Think_ , Mr. Laufeyson. Where were they holding you?”

“They had us..in the back of a van..”

“Your body’s bouncing around in the back of a van right now-that explains the gravity shifts.”

“It was..something about a safe..” Loki says, closing his eyes. “Christ, why is it so hard to remember?”

Steve taps him on the shoulder and looks at Loki in the eye. “It’s like trying to remember a dream after you’ve woken up. It takes years of practice to do it easily. So, you and Selvig have been pulled into this dream so they can steal something from your mind.” Loki looks like he remembers something from earlier. “What?” Steve asks.

“They wanted a combination to a safe..they demanded the first numbers that popped into my head.” Loki replies.

Steve nods at him. “That’s them extracting a locator.”

“A locator?”

“A number from your own subconscious. It can be used any numbers of ways.” Steve leans his head to the left like a puppy, pretending to think. He nods. “This is a hotel. _Room numbers._ What was the number you gave them?”

“5..2..something..it was a long number. 528..528, 4 something.”

Steve opens his phone. “Well, now we know where to start.” He says to Loki, then speaks into the phone. “Fifth floor.”

\--

Thor moves through the lobby and sees Selvig walking towards him. “I see you’ve changed.” Thor says, making Selvig stop next to him. “I’m sorry?” Selvig says. Thor looks behind Selvig’s shoulder, seeing Natasha turn around the corner, moving her finger along her throat, meaning that the Selvig standing next to Thor is only a projection of Selvig. “I’m..I mistook you for a friend.” Thor says, awkwardly chuckling.

“Good-looking fellow, I’m sure.” Selvig’s projection says, and continues on his way through the lobby.

Natasha walks up to Thor. “That’s Loki’s projection of Selvig. We’ll keep an eye on how he behaves-”

“Why?” Thor asks. Natasha turns him so they follow Selvig.

“How he acts will tell us if Loki’s starting to suspect his motives the way we want him to.”

\--

Steve leads Loki around a corner, but when Loki sees Clint and Tony waiting in the corridor, his steps falter. “They work for me.” Steve says, and they continue walking. Loki starts looking at the room numbers on both sides, and stops in front of 528. Steve and Clint draw their guns, and Steve kicks the door open. Both of them search the room, only to see that it’s empty. Thor and Natasha arrive, and Natasha closes the door, watching Clint come out of the bathroom with the silver mechanism case.

“Mr. Charles!” He says to Steve, putting the mechanism on the bed.

Steve turns to Loki. “You know what this is?” Pointing to the dream machine.

Loki’s eyes look at the thing, watching Clint opening the briefcase and seeing the yellow button, dials, timers, and wires. “I, uh, I think so. But I don’t understand.” He says.

“They were going to put you under.”

“But, I’m already under, right?”

“Under _again_.”

“A dream within a dream?” Loki asks, and Clint shushes him, letting all of them hear a key card go into the door. Clint and Natasha get into place right before the door opens, and Natasha pushes the person down with her knee and twists back the guy's left arm, and the man puts one of his arms up in surrender.

“Uncle Erik? What’s going on?” Loki asks. Steve takes the key card and looks at it. _528._

He pockets the card and turns back to Loki. “You said you were kidnapped together?”

“Not exactly, they already had him. They’d been torturing him..” Loki says.

“You _saw_ them torture him?”

Loki shakes his head, then stares at Selvig. “The kidnappers are working for you?”

“No, Loki-” Selvig says from the ground, grunting from the force of Natasha’s knee.

“You’re trying to get that safe open. To get the alternate will.”

Selvig looks up at Clint’s gun, then at Loki. “Laufey’s been my entire life. I can’t let you destroy it.” He says.

“I’m not going to throw away my inheritance. Why would I?” Loki says, his voice rising.

“I couldn’t take the chance of you rising to your father’s final _taunt_.”

“What taunt?”

“That will. I’m sorry, Loki, but it’s his final insult. A challenge to build something for yourself. He’s telling you that you aren’t worthy of his achievements.” Loki looks at him, devastated.

“That he was ‘disappointed’?”

“I’m so sorry. But he was wrong. You’ll make his company even greater than he ever could.”

“Your godfather’s lying, Loki.” Steve says.

Loki turns back to him. “How do you know?”

“It’s what I do. He’s hiding something.” Steve says, then he looks at Selvig. “Let’s find out what.” Steve nods at Clint, who starts unpacking the mechanism, while Selvig watches silently. “Let’s do to him what he was going to do to you.” Steve says, rolling up his sleeve, and nods at Loki to do the same. “We’ll penetrate his subconscious and find out what he doesn’t want you to know.”

Loki looks Steve in the eye, wondering if he should do the same. He thinks about how Selvig betrayed him, how it contrasts from his relationship with his father. How it almost makes his father look like a saint, who he shared a shitload of meaningful experiences together, how his mother’s death didn’t affect their relationship. He decides to trust Steve-Mr. Charles-and decides to roll up his sleeve, offering his bare arm. Clint pulls out the multiple tubes, handing them to each teammate. Steve takes a tube and injects it into Loki’s wrist, and lays him down on the bed once his head slumps. “He’s out.” Selvig’s projection disappears.

“Wait, Steve-I’m lost. Whose subconscious are we going into?” Tony asks before putting the tube into his own wrist.

“Loki’s. I told him it was Selvig’s so he’d come with us as part of our team.” Steve replies.

Clint gives Steve an impressed face, which isn’t surprising, after spending so much time with Steve. “He’s going to help us break into his own subconscious.” Steve smirks at him.

“That’s the idea. He’ll think that his security is Selvig’s and fight them to learn the truth about his father.” Clint pushes the yellow button on the mechanism, and the others of the team, excluding Steve, go under into Loki’s dream, the third and final layer Tony created. “Loki’s subconscious is going to run you down hard.”

“I’ll lead them on a merry chase, Steve.” Clint says, smiling like when they first met. Clint was at the VA, Natasha next to him. They were sitting at the front desk, since Sam was in a meeting, and there was no receptionist. Steve had walked in, with a concerned face, and all Clint did was smile. Steve, with all of his righteousness, was determined to ask anyone there about what it was like for a newbie to join the army. Natasha had raised her eyebrow, since she already knew that this guy was determined-a man of steel-in such a small body, but with such a big heart, and stubborn as all hell. Clint and Natasha had answered all his questions, had respected him almost as much as Bucky did.

But now, Clint was worried that Steve had lost all his chill, or at least, about to lose it. Clint can only guess what’s down there. “Be back in time for the kick.” Steve says.

“I’m on it.” Steve’s face goes blank; he hears nothing but white noise, almost like howling wind. He’s staring at the curtains in the room, as if they were in their anniversary suite, before Bucky died. Before he saw Bucky on the other side of that window, looking like his old, favorite, well-known _Bucky._ But he doesn’t see anyone behind those curtains, because they’re not real. Is his _life_ real anymore? He can’t answer that question in time, since everything changes into blinding white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Third Layer of The Dream. Loving all your kudos and comments!


	10. Chapter 10

Steve’s staring into a sniper rifle, looking down at the fortified medical facility a mile below the cliff they’re standing on. They’re surrounded by mountains, thick snow piled on top of them and the faciltiy and the trees. “Rogers?” Tony asks him from his left, and he puts the rifle down. They’re wearing white snowsuits, making them look like World War Two commandos, and they’re weapons are painted white as well. “What’s down there?” 

“Hopefully, the truth we want Loki to learn.” Steve replies.

“I meant what’s down there for you?” Steve turns to him, scowling. He’s already told Tony enough as he possibly could, and the kid is still trying to extract information from him.  _ Well, shit _ . Steve thinks. This kid could do both of their jobs blindfolded. But still, what does Tony want? He’s already gotten all of Steve’s information. Maybe the  _ real _ truth? Who Alexander Pierce is, the organization he runs, a woman he saw when he was being escorted to Bucky, how Pierce turned Bucky into a toy, and all Steve could do was to sit there and watch as Bucky’s mind deteriorated. This complex is only another reminder of his and Bucky’s association with Hydra.

Behind Tony, Natasha, Thor, and Loki arrive, skiing down from the hill above. Steve pulls Natasha out of Loki’s earshot, who’s probably not listening anyway, since he’s staring at the scene around him, not the people he’s started to trust. “You’re the dreamer. I need you to draw the security away from the complex.” 

“Then who guides Loki in? You?” She asks. 

“If I know the route..we could be compromised.” Steve says quietly. Natasha only barely knows about the general knowledge of Bucky, besides that he and Steve were best friends for years, then Bucky got married to Steve, he went to war, he came back and everything was fine, then he was dead. What she doesn’t know is the specifics: Alexander Pierce ruining his mind, then Steve, then Hydra, then himself. Her face is uneasy, as if she’s trying to look for the right words but she can’t. Tony saves her the trouble by walking over. 

“I designed the place.” Tony says.

“No. You’re with me.” Steve replies.

“I could do it.” Thor says from behind them. They all turn to him. Thor shrugs at Natasha, who then smiles. “Natasha, brief Thor on the route into the complex. What we’re looking for is going to be in the most heavily fortified section. That north tower.” Steve says.

“Uh oh, Captain on deck.” Natasha whispers, only joking, but Steve’s the only one who gets it, besides Clint, who’s upstairs back in that hotel. 

Steve moves to Loki. Thor coughs and spits out blood on the shining snow. Natasha sees this, and looks at him with a concerned face. He shrugs it off. “Loki, you’re going with Thor.” Steve says, his stern commander voice leaking through to the surface, which makes people pay more attention due to how big he is in dreams. He hasn’t talked like this in forever, only when Bucky or Clint were being total asses and Steve had lost his cool, or when he was picking fights in alleys.  _ Do ya talk smack to the bullies so they beat you up more, or because you like being a smartass? _ Bucky would always ask. Steve doesn’t really know the answer anymore. 

“You’re not coming in?” Loki asks, squinting at the snow’s brightness from the shining sun. 

“You have to do this on your own. You have to get in there, break into your godfather’s mind and find out the truth about your father.” Steve taps at Loki’s radio mike. “You keep this live at all times. I’ll be listening in the whole time, covering you.” He holds up the sniper rifle, only imagining that that’s what Bucky used to do. “The windows on the upper floors are big enough that I can cover you from that south tower, you see it?” Steve asks, pointing towards it. “Yeah.” Loki replies, trying to remember what Steve has just said.

\--

Upstairs, Clint looks at his watch, the second hand slowly ticking. Then, taking a last look at his sleeping teammates, he heads out into the corridor. All he can hope for is that Tony made a good enough maze that the projections won’t find him immediately.

\--

Bruce can hardly see through the rain, and he wonders how the projections are able to see through it, but then he realizes that they’re fucking projections sent out to kill them, and his fucking compounds are strong enough that if anyone of them die, they’re sent to Limbo, where their minds are basically wiped, as if the experiences in the dreams never happened, and it was, well, a half-remembered dream that didn’t make sense ever, but you lose the memory of it instantly. 

He continues to drive the van towards the bridge, trying to make sure the projections don’t shoot and kill any more of them, or most importantly,  _ him. _ A gunshot hits the van as he drives. Bruce glances behind him only to see two projections on a motorcycle pulling up from behind him, the rear passenger firing from his shotgun, almost shooting Steve in the goddamn face. At least he's secured in his seat belt, his body moving with the swerving of the van. 

The bike pulls alongside Bruce’s window, as the rear passenger reloads, not losing balance, which is pretty impressive, even for projections, who are basically their own stuntmen. Bruce yanks the steering wheel towards the bike, bringing the shotgun barrel into the van so he can grab it and turn the wheel back, which pulls the rear passenger from the back of the bike. Bruce turns a corner into an abandoned market, losing that tail of projections..for now.

\--

Clint is walking through the corridors of the hotel’s fifth floor, towards the elevator. The doors open, revealing a security man, who heads right for him. Clint turns around the corner, starting to run from him. The booms that are able to rattle the framed pictures on the walls and the doors on their hinges, becomes louder-

\--

The bike with only the one driver crosses behind the van, catching up again as the guy pulls out a handgun and starts blasting bullets at the van. Up ahead, Bruce sees another black SUV sitting in a side road, lining up to get next to the van, almost T-Boning Bruce. The projection driving the SUV guns the gas pedal when Bruce rushes by, as the motorcycle guy catches up to Bruce on the other side of the van. 

Bruce sees that the SUV is planning to swerve towards the van to hit it, but Bruce slams on the brakes just in time so the SUV hits the biker, making him fly off, like a rag doll. Bruce makes it out of the market and races onto a freeway ramp, approaching the bridge that’s apart of the kick, to get him and his teammates back into the real world. Before he can reach the top, another SUV smashes into the van, pushing it against a crash barricade, which ends abruptly, making the van tilt, making Bruce feel like the scene is now in slow-motion.

\--

Clint continues to lead the security man down the corridors in a hurry, then the corridor starts to tilt, following the actions of the van Bruce is driving upstairs. Clint’s forced to run up onto the wall, becoming the new floor he’s running on. He turns a corner and run straight into another security man. Clint thanks God that his reflexes are on-point, because he head-butts the guy, and they start to struggle. The corridor spins around, throwing them up onto the walls, onto the ceiling, until they drop back onto the floor, bursting through one of the hotel room’s doors. 

Upstairs, Clint’s sleeping body moves with the van’s tilting while it rolls down the embankment. Now, Clint and the security man drop to the floor, with Clint on top. The room continues to spin, a handgun sliding across the floor, out of reach from both of them. Clint is pushed back by the guy towards the door, and when the room starts to settle, the security man jumps from the bed, and Clint shoots him in the head. “I. Am. The greatest marksman  _ ever _ , Natasha.” He says, getting up and running towards the stairwell. 

\--

After hitting a highway lamp at the bottom of the hill, the van settles with a loud thump. Bruce is breathing hard, then smiles as he realizes he’s still in one piece, and he’s not angry or scared. He looks back at his teammates who are sleeping still, and says, “You guys see that?!” He chuckles at his own joke then clears his throat, checking his watch when he hears distant bells ringing up on the bridge. “Shit.” 

Bruce hits the gas again, climbing up back onto the highway, heading for the bridge. On the right side of the van, another SUV pulls up onto the highway, and tries to catch up to the van, which is moving at a faster speed. The barriers of the bridge are rising, and the van barely makes it, yet the SUV pursuing him continues to drive anyway, and the barrier rips off the half end of the car, and it scrapes to a halt. The projection gets out and starts shooting towards Bruce, who covers his head with his hands, the rain soaking both him and the militarized projection.

\--

Clint races down the steps to the fourth floor and turns a corner to the corridor where room 491 is, and he sees to security men standing outside the room. “HEY!” Clint yells, waving his arms dramatically, and the men turn towards him, and Clint darts back into the stairwell and races down the stairs, where the men start to shoot at him.

\--

Natasha skis down the slope, far enough to where she can escape quickly, but where the projections can see the flare she shoots into the air. At the hospital complex, the security men are in darker versions of her team’s snowsuits; not trying to be as camouflaged as them. Nevertheless, they see the flare and patrols are sent out, men on skis and snowmobiles go to investigate the source. Natasha watches them close in, then she launches herself down the icy mountain, smirking. 

\--

Upstairs on the bridge, Bruce becomes worried and impatient about the projection closing in on him and his teammates. He pulls the van forward, looking over his shoulder to line up a backwards run at the edge. He ducks the fire coming from the SUV, which sounds horrible. He looks at his watch, the second hand still moving slowly. “Shit. I hope you’re ready.” He says to Clint, who can’t even hear him but Bruce stopped caring a long time ago of whether or not anyone can hear him besides the projections that are close enough. He grabs the MP3 player from the front seat and places the headphones on Clint’s head. Behind Clint is where Thor is strapped in, the blood from his bullet wound bleeding through the bandage. After he checks Thor, he presses play, and sits back down into the van’s driver’s seat.

\--

In the stairwell, Clint stops, looking up panicked when he realizes that the kick should’ve started by now, but he’s barely done with the layer of dreams he’s stayed in, and he can only imagine how far the others downstairs are doing. “No, no. It’s too soon..” Clint says to himself, then gets back into action when shots are fired around him into the stairs, since bad guys can’t shoot that well, apparently.

\--

Steve and Tony stop their skis halfway down towards the complex when Natasha talks into the radio. “Rogers? Are you hearing that?” She asks. Steve listens, the wind sounding unusually low for where they’re standing. Down farther on the slope is Natasha, who’s hidden in the base of some pine trees, whispering into the radio as a patrol rolls by. “ _ I noticed it about twenty minutes ago-at first I thought it was just wind.. _ ” She continues. Steve listens to the wind, which changes pitch all of a sudden, ringing across the mountains. 

“No, it’s music. Dammit.” Steve says through the mike.

“ _ What do we do? _ ” Natasha responds.

“We move fast. Thor, did you copy?” Steve asks, looking upwards. Thor and Loki are climbing down the cliff face above the hospital complex. “We’re going as fast as we can.” Thor replies. 

Tony looks at Steve, a concerned look on his face. “How long do we have?” He asks.

Steve thinks quickly. “Bruce is about ten seconds from the jump, which gives Clint about three minutes, which gives us about-”

“Sixty minutes.” Tony finishes. 

“The route you gave them, can they do it under an hour?”

“I don’t think so. They’ve still got to climb down to the middle terrace.”

“They need a new route-a direct route.” Steve says.

Tony shakes his head. He knows what Steve’s about to ask, but he still tries to keep Steve out of it. “The building’s designed as a labyrinth.” He says.

“There must be access routes that cut through the maze.” Steve says to Tony, then talks into the radio. “Natasha? Can you answer me?” Down below, Natasha’s dealing with the security, who’s shooting at her through the trees but missing, so no, she can’t answer. Steve turns towards Tony. “Did Natasha add any features?”

“Yes.” Tony says. 

“What did she add?”

“I shouldn’t tell you. If Bucky-” 

“There’s no time! What did she add?” Steve says, proving Tony’s hypothesis again; Steve managed to weasel his way into letting his subconscious-Bucky-know a shortcut through the maze he’s created.

“Utility closets, trap doors..” Tony replies, looking Steve in the eye, even though he’s still a little bit scared of Steve still, without his small body.

“What about service features? Did she add any large pipes or-”

“Ducts. He added an air duct system-it doesn’t follow the maze. They can use it to go straight from the outer walls to the upper tower.”

“Good. Explain it to them.” Steve says, looking at Tony with a stern face, and points to his mike. 

“Thor?” Tony asks. On the cliff, Thor is using a hammer to tap in a belay. 

“ _ Go ahead. _ ” He says.

\--

Bruce looks at the security man standing behind the door of his SUV, and decides to get a little bit crazy by giving the guy the finger. He then hits the gas and races backwards towards the barrier of the bridge-

\--

Clint runs up on the stairs, goes around a corner, then impossibly ends up behind the guy shooting at him. The guy looks confused, then looks down to see that the only thing in front of him is an endless drop. He looks at Clint who just shrugs. “Paradox, biatch.” Clint pushes him over the edge, making sure he falls, then races back up to the fourth floor. Upstairs, when the van hits the barrier of the bridge, Clint is thrown forward through the corridor.

\--

Steve and Tony hear a faint rumbling, and they look up to see snow starting to fall from the mountain above. Natasha's been shooting through the trees at the projections chasing her, skiing backwards and shooting the guys that are close to her, getting rid of that group, then skis further down the slope when she sees the snow on the cliff breaking, starting an avalanche. Thor and Loki are still climbing down to the terrace, and Thor looks up only a few seconds before the ice and snow cracks. “Look out!” He yells towards Loki, who is closer to the bottom. Thor cuts the rope and they fall, hitting the icy face of the slope and slide down it, away from the avalanche. Loki stands and helps Thor up. Their breathing is shallow, and Loki gets enough air to speak. “Couldn’t someone have dreamt up a goddamn beach, huh?!”

\--

The van begins to fall in freeform towards the river, making Clint float through the corridor, since the gravity has disappeared. Steve watches the avalanche slide past the complex, crumpling trees on it’s way down; the cloud dispersing before it can hit him and Tony, as well as Natasha, who’s farther below. “What was  _ that _ ?” Tony asks.

“The kick.” Steve replies with a scowl on his face.

“ _ Rogers? Did we miss it? _ ” Natasha asks over the radio.  

“Yeah, we missed it.” Steve says through the mike.

Natasha is lying on the snow, away from the other projections that haven’t reached her yet. “What the hell do we do now?” 

“ _ Finish the job before the next kick. _ ” Steve responds over the radio.

“What next kick?” Natasha asks. Steve looks at Tony as he talks into the radio. “When the van hits the water. I figure Clint’s got a couple minutes, and we’ve got about twenty.” He says. The two of them walk towards the base of the complex. Above them, Thor and Loki run around the base of the building, finding the large exhaust port Tony said would be there, cutting through the maze. Thor reaches into Loki’s backpack and then places an explosive on the grill. The two of them hide behind the corner when Thor hits the detonator. They climb into the open vent, Thor coughing still, becoming weaker.

\--

The van is about ten stories above the river, slowly falling. In the zero gravity of the hotel, Clint makes his way to room 491, pushing the key card into the door, which unlocks. He looks at the explosives planted on the ceiling. “How the hell do I  _ drop _ you?” He hurries towards the explosives on the ceiling, putting them into a backpack that’s floating above the bed. 

Thor and Loki hurry through the air duct system, and Thor starts to fall behind, coughing up blood. He sits down, urging Loki to continue without him. He can guard Loki from down there. 

By the upper terrace, Steve shoots a guard on the balcony, who falls over the railing onto the hard snow below. Steve beckons to Tony, so he follows closer, and they enter the base of the south tower. Steve enters first, shooting the guard, then moving to the window. Tony points out the window. “That’s the antechamber outside the strongroom.” He says. 

Steve takes off his hat, setting up his sniper rifle. “What about the strongroom? Does it have any windows?” 

“Well obviously not. It wouldn’t be very strong if it did.” Tony says, giving Steve an off-look. “Look, if you wanted to design it yourself-”

“It’s fine. Better hope that we like what Loki finds in there.” Steve says, seeing three guards on the balcony outside the chamber, and three inside. Steve picks them off quickly, and Tony watches, appalled. “These projections, they’re part of Loki’s subconscious?”

“Yeah.” Steve says, shooting another guard that comes to check on the first guy that was shot. 

“Are you destroying those parts of his mind?”

“No, of course not. They’re just projections.” Steve replies, shooting another. 

“ _ Rogers? Something wrong up there? _ ” Natasha asks through the radio. She’s watching the patrol head back towards the complex. “They’re heading your way. Like they know something.” She says.

Steve becomes concerned. “Buy us some time.”

“ _ That, I can do _ .” Natasha says, taking off towards the complex. 

\--

Clint floats his way up to room 528, and looks at his sleeping teammates, who are floating, loosely connected by their tubes. Then he looks at the decorations that are floating in the room; the potted plant, a telephone beeping since the receiver isn’t connected to the base. He makes a plan quickly, then starts to pull Steve towards Natasha. 

In the air duct of the mountain complex, Loki is standing by Thor’s side, who’s slumped and shivering, his face pale. “We’re here. Are we clear to proceed?” Loki asks through the mike. 

In the top room of the south tower, Steve scans the antechamber through his scope. “You’re clear, but hurry-there’s an entire army headed your way.” Tony watches the patrols approaching the complex. Loki’s radio turns into loud static, so he turns the volume all the way down as he moves the grate forward, and steps into the antechamber, looking around. 

Natasha hits a guy attached to the last snowmobile by a line, like someone who’s waterskiing. She grabs onto the line, moving forward, pulling the rear passenger off the snowmobile, and slams the driver’s head against the handle bars, taking control. She drives faster, and throws a grenade towards the giant cab, giving the projection a thumbs up, and the one projection looks at it right before it explodes, making the automobile stop in it’s tracks. When she gets to the complex, she starts setting mines along the lowest wall, moving carefully. 

Through the scope of his sniper rifle, Steve spots something,  _ something _ above the main windows, lowering itself down to the floor slowly and quietly. “Shit. There’s someone else in there.” He says, and Tony grabs at his radio. “Loki, stop! There’s someone else in there-it’s a trap!” Loki can’t hear him, doesn’t see the flashing light on his radio and continues to walk towards the sleek black strongroom with a pin pad on the door. 

Steve sets his finger by the trigger, waiting for whoever’s in there to drop behind Loki, and shoot the projection. “Come on..a little lower..a little-” Steve freezes. Bucky’s in his sights, wearing the darker commando suit. Tony raises his binoculars to his eyes, looking into the strongroom. He spots Bucky. “Rogers, that’s not really him-” 

Steve looks at him. “How can you  _ know _ that?” Steve says.  

Loki turns the volume back up on his radio. “I’m in.” Tony’s yelling at him over the radio to look out. Look out? There’s no one in his view, but when he turns around he sees Bucky. “Hello.” Bucky says. 

“Rogers, he’s just a projection. Loki..he’s  _ real _ .” Tony says. Steve nods at him and turns back to look into the scope, only to see that he’s too late. Bucky shoots Loki twice in the chest, and Steve reflexively pulls the trigger and steps back from the scope with a stunned look on his face. Bucky wasn’t wearing a sleeve for his left arm like he usually does. He’s become more dangerous. “Nat? Get to the anteroom now!” He says through the radio, and the two men run for the door. 

Thor hears the gunshots, which startles him. He starts to make his way forwards towards Loki, clutching his chest.

Clint’s made a stack out of his sleeping teammates, who are wrapped around a wire that connected to the floating telephone. He pushes them out of the door, and makes his way to the elevator. He hits the button and a moment later the elevator doors open. He pushes them in and the doors close. He looks above him and slams open the hatch of the elevator’s ceiling.

Natasha’s made her way to the air duct, and when she steps around the corner, she sees Thor looking at her with dying eyes. She gives him a small smile of reassurance and continues her way up into the antechamber. She sees Loki on the ground, blood seeping through his white shirt. She runs to the wall that has a first aid kit on it, and starts to begin setting up a defibrillator. Then Steve and Tony rush in. 

“What happened?” Natasha asks, kneeling by Loki’s side. 

“Bucky killed Loki-” Tony begins.

“I couldn’t shoot him.” Steve says, sighing. Natasha shocks Loki’s chest. “It wouldn’t do any good-” Steve’s right. The first shock from the defibrillator doesn’t do anything but shake Loki’s body a little. “Even if you could revive his body, his mind’s already trapped down there. It’s over.”

Natasha listens for a pulse, then looks up at Steve. “So that’s it then? We failed?” She asks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m sorry too, Steve, since now you can’t get back to your family.” Natasha says, looking at Loki, then to the double doors of the strongroom. “I really wanted to know what was going to happen in there. I thought we had this one, for sure.”

“There’s still a way: we follow Loki down-” Tony starts, and the others look at him. 

“We’re almost out of time-” Natasha says, but Tony cuts her off. She gives him a scowl.

“Down there there will be enough time. We’ll find him-soon as you hear Clint’s music start, you use the defibrillator to revive Loki-we give him his own early kick down below. Get him in there-” Tony says, pointing at the double doors behind Natasha. “Then, as the music ends you blow the hospital and we all ride the kick back up through the layers.”

Natasha looks at Tony, then at Steve. “Okay, Thor can hold off the projections while I plant the rest of the charges.” She says, but Steve shakes his head.

“Thor’s not going to last, Nat.”

“We have to try, Steve!” Tony says.

Natasha nods. “Go for it, but I’m taking the kick whether you’re back or not..” She pulls out the dream mechanism from her pack and hands it to Tony. Steve watches the interaction silently. Tony pulls out the tubes and looks at Steve. “Can I trust you to do what’s needed? Bucky’s down there-” Tony says. 

“And I can find him.” Steve replies. 

“How do you know?” 

“He wants me to come after him. He wants me back down there with him.” Steve rolls up his sleeve, laying down on the concrete floor and inserting the tube. Tony closes his eyes, and Natasha pushes the yellow button. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Limbo  
> The end is near! [distant screaming]


	11. Chapter 11

The sun is shining down on Tony, blinding him while he lays on the shore, the sea foam covering his body. He gasps for air and tries to get up, but the waves are too strong. He sees buildings piled right down to the water. They’re decaying, and they fall into the water, almost like someone kicking over a sandcastle into the waves. Steve wades through the strong waves towards him. He picks Tony up and they walk towards the shore, the shallow waves managing to push them forward. “This is your world?” Tony asks as they walk forward into the city. “It was. And this is where he’ll be.” Steve replies.

\--

Clint is floating on top of the elevator, planting the charges on the emergency brakes and the cable. He moves away with his backpack full of the other explosives. He hits the detonator, and ducks out of the way of the cables and sparks from the elevator.

\--

In the antechamber, Natasha is running around, checking on Loki and preparing the defibrillator paddles. Then she goes into the air duct and helps Thor take a seated position around the corner in the antechamber, giving him a handgun and a grenade. “Come on, Thor. I need you to cover Loki while I plant the charges, yeah?” Thor nods slowly, weakly, testing his hand at holding the gun. “No room for tourists on this job.” Thor says. She takes her machine gun off her shoulder and checks its rounds, to see that it’s full, and does the same with her Glock 47’s. She looks at the window, to see patrols climb up to the balconies. She heads outside, covering herself, taking a last look at Thor, whose breathing is slow.

She runs along the upper terrace, dodging the bullets shot at her, that break the windows she runs past. She stops for only a second to shoot back, getting rid of a few of the projections. One of them manages to sneak up on her, and she pistol whips him in the neck. The guy doesn’t react like she thought he would, and they continue to fight. The guy hits her in the chest with her own machine gun and throws it over the railing into a snowbank. She knees him in the crotch, then spins around him, wrapping her thighs around his neck, strangling him with garrote wire. He flips her over the balcony, and when she lands safely in the snowbank, she shoots him in the head then continues running through the complex.

\--

Steve and Tony begin to walk forward out of the waves, towards the towering buildings that seem to go on for forever. The buildings closer to the beach are the oldest, the ones who are deserted and decayed, about to fall into the streets. About a block in, they stop walking in the water from the ocean, and continue to see buildings that look newer and different. Tony looks around and marvels at Steve and Bucky’s work, how they designed buildings of every architectural style. “You built all this?” Tony asks.

“We both did.” Steve replies, his hands in his pockets, looking shy. A constant reminder of Bucky, stronger this time. He tries to be humble about the situation, but it’s harder than he thought.

“It’s incredible.”

“We built for years. Then, when that got stale, we started in on the memories.” Steve hears Sharon and Becca laughing without a care in the world, making him stop walking. He barely sees them before they disappear behind a corner, onto another street. He points after them. “This way.”

They walk under an awning, and end up at a square lined with all different sorts of buildings, from apartment blocks to houses, on a small lake. “This is our neighborhood.”

Tony becomes confused by this. “From what city?”

“No. _Our_ neighborhood.” They walk and Steve points at certain buildings. “This was our first apartment..then we moved to that house with Erskine.”

“You constructed them all from memory?”

Steve shrugs. “We had time.” He stops in front of a small house. Bucky’s house that they shared so many memories in.

“What’s that?”

“The house Buck grew up in.”

“Will he be in there?”

Steve clears his head, preparing to meet Bucky again, and not be killed by him. “No. Come on-” Steve leads Tony to the entrance of a glass skyscraper. They walk across the elegant lobby, no receptionist desk, only decorations and spiral stairs going both up and down. “We both wanted a house, but we both loved this type of building. In the real world we had to choose. But not here.” They walk towards the gleaming steel elevators, and Steve hits the button to the penthouse once they step in.

“How do we send Loki back?” Tony asks.

“We need some kind of kick.” Steve replies, pulling out his handgun and checking that it’s loaded properly. It is. And all of a sudden, it feels heavy in his hands, since this Bucky is going to be the closest version of the real one.

“Like what?” Tony says, eyeing the handgun.

“I’ll improvise.” Steve looks at him. He cocks the gun and the elevator stops. The doors open, and before Tony can step forward, Steve stops him. When he looks down the hallway, he sees into the house he’s been in before, when he shared Steve’s secret dream with him before they boarded the plane with Loki.  

“There’s something you have to understand about me. About inception. You see, an idea is like a virus..” Steve says, leading Tony down the hallway cautiously. “Resilient..” Steve turns back to Tony. “Highly contagious, and an idea can grow. The smallest seed of an idea can grow to define or destroy your world..”

They turn around the corner. Steve sees Bucky’s back turned, relaxed in ordinary clothes, a red button up and jeans. He’s sitting at the end of the kitchen table, staring out at the porch, looking at the towers of Limbo-the things they created-stretching far out into the distance, past the horizon. “The smallest idea, such as: _‘Your world is not real_ ’.” Bucky says, turning towards Steve to look at him. Steve hands his gun off to Tony and slowly walks to sit down at the table besides Bucky. “A simple little thought that changes _everything_..”

\--

Clint moves from the top of the elevator shaft to down below, placing the main explosives across the bottom of the elevator, getting ready for the second and final kick.

\--

Steve reaches out to touch Bucky’s arm, but he pulls back, his face angry. Then Steve and Tony notice the butcher knife in front of Bucky. It looks like he’s been toying with it, since there’s drops of blood on the carving board. Bucky looks at Tony with a scowl, sizing him up. “So certain of your world. Of what’s real. Do you think _he_ is-” Bucky continues, turning back towards Steve and pointing at him. “Or do you think he’s as lost as I was? For fuck sakes, he’s in a whole different body, something I’ve seen before. He thinks he’s not made out of gold since people mistake him for being lousy looking. Never to me. So, so perfect.”

“I know what’s real. My small body. How you saw it.” Steve says gently, looking Bucky in the eye. Looking at his bright blue eyes, that look like a clean blue sky after a thunderstorm.

Bucky dismisses the conversation about Steve and his body. “What _are_ the distinguishing characteristics of a dream? Mutable laws of physics? Tell that to the quantum physicists. Reappearance of the dead? What about heaven and hell? Persecution of the dreamer, the creator, the messiah? They crucified Christ, didn’t they?”

“I know what’s real.” Steve repeats.

Bucky leans forward towards Steve. “No creeping doubts? Not feeling persecuted, Steve? Chased around the globe by anonymous corporations and police forces? _Hydra?_ The way the projections persecute the dreamer?” Bucky gives him a pitying look and puts his hand on Steve’s face, rubbing his thumb against his cheek, calming him, if only for a moment. “Admit it, Stevie. You don’t believe in one reality anymore. So choose. Choose your reality like I did. Choose to be here. Choose _me_.”

Steve snaps a little. He’s never liked yelling at Bucky, even though he knows that this one isn’t real. “I _have_ chosen, Buck. Our family. I have to get back to them. Because _you_ left them. You left _us._ You left _me_ , for Christ’s sake!”

“You’re wrong, Steve. You’re confused..our family is _here_ -” Steve hears Peggy, along with Sharon and Becca. He hears their bright laughter. “And you’d like to see their faces again, wouldn’t you, Steve?”

Steve whispers. “No, Buck. Our real family is waiting for me up above-”

\--

In the elevator, Clint moves quickly to rearrange his sleeping teammates on the floor of the car. When he moves Thor, he looks at his hand to see blood on it. He looks down at Thor’s chest, the blood coming through his shirt. Clint frowns, then places the headphones on Natasha’s head.

In the snow, Natasha continues to run, placing explosives for the kick and getting back to Thor and Loki as fast as possible, even in this much gunfire. She throws a grenade at the projections trying to get to her, and ducks to the ground to avoid the heavy fire. She places an explosive on the bottom of the terrace and continues on.

Thor keeps his breathing quiet, so he can hear when projections are entering through the air duct system. He looks back at a guard making his way up to the antechamber, and raises his gun unsteadily.

\--

Bucky chuckles at Steve, his eyes bright, as if they were having a night to themselves, away from everyone else, and certainly before Bucky went off to join the army. “Up above? Listen to yourself. You judged me for believing the very same thing.” He points back to their family. “This _is_ our family. Watch.” He turns to them. “Becca! Peggy! Sharon!” They start to turn their backs to look at Steve, but he squeezes his eyes shut.

“They’re not real, Buck. Our real family are waiting for me-” Steve says, waiting for the laughter to disappear. He opens his eyes.

“You keep telling yourself that but you don’t believe it-”

“I know it-”

“And what if you’re wrong? What if I’m what’s real?” Bucky says, and Steve stays silent. Tony does too, examining the situation to know exactly when to use his handgun. “You keep telling yourself what you know..but what do you believe? What do you _feel?_ ”

Steve looks at Bucky and struggles to get out the words. It’s so hard to lie to him, even if he is just a projection. “Guilt. I feel guilt. And however confused I might get. However lost I might seem..it’s always there. Telling me something. Reminding me of the truth.”

“What truth?” Bucky demands.

“That you were wrong to doubt our world. That the idea that drove you to question your reality was a lie..”

“How could you _know_ it was a lie, Stevie?”

Steve inhales sharply. “Because, Buck, it was my lie. Pierce’s lie.”

Bucky leans back in his chair, his eyes wide, realizing that Steve had become his enemy. That Steve had worked with Pierce. That Steve _betrayed_ him. “Because you planted the idea in my mind. All because of Pierce?”

Steve nods, trying to look at Bucky, but failing. “Because I performed it on my own husband, then reaped the bitter rewards..”

“Why?” Tony asks, standing far enough away that Bucky can’t stab him in the gut again.

Steve looks over his shoulder to Tony, then at the wall in front of him, across the table to a blurred picture of the five of them at the beach. A memory. A regret. “We’d become lost in here. Living in a world of infinite possibilities. A world where we were gods. I realized we needed to escape, but he’d locked away his knowledge of the unreality of this world..” _Bucky had gone into the home he grew up in, into Becca’s room, opening the doll’s house and had opened a safe. He had put the spinning top in there, and locked it away._ “I couldn’t make Buck understand that we needed to break free. To die. So I started to search our world..” Steve turns to Bucky, but continues to talk to Tony.  

“Searching for the right place in his mind..” _Steve had wandered for hours through Limbo, looking for something to try and change Bucky’s mind. He had found it; the first place he should’ve checked. He had stood outside of Bucky’s childhood home, looking at it, before deciding to go in. Before deciding to follow Pierce’s orders._ “And when I found that place, that secret place where he had shut away his knowledge years before, I broke it open..” _Steve found the doll’s house, finding the safe with Bucky’s secret, that Bucky decided to forget._

“I broke into the deepest recess of his mind, to give him the simplest little idea.” _Steve opened the safe on his first try. When he had opened it, he found Bucky’s spinning top on its side._ “A truth that he had once known, but decided to forget..” _Steve looked at the totem for a long while, deciding to follow Pierce’s orders or not, but he has to. He then picks it up and spins it in the safe. He watches it spin and spin and spin, without end. Steve closed the door of the safe, making Bucky lose track of reality._

“That his world wasn’t real.” Steve continues. _He and Bucky held hands the entire way to the edge of the city, where there are train tracks, and behind it: wasteland. Nothing in sight. Bucky had already lost his mind before he had decided to wake up._ “That death was a necessary escape.” _The two of them lay down, their heads on the train tracks. Bucky looked worried, almost about to cry. Steve took Bucky’s hands in his._

_“You’re waiting for a train.” Steve had said. “A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can’t know for sure. Yet it doesn’t matter..” Steve had looked up at the train, closing in on them fast. “Now tell me why!”_

_Bucky looked at him, breathing heavily. “Because you’ll be together!” Bucky had yelled over the vibrations of the tracks. The train came right after that, obliterating them. They woke up._

Bucky begins to cry, and Steve looks into his eyes. "I never thought that the idea I’d planted-the one Pierce wanted me to do-would grow in his mind like a cancer. That even after we woke..” _Steve sees Bucky sitting on the window ledge of that hotel, through the curtains._ “You’d continue to believe that your world was not real..” Bucky nods, continuing to cry, like when he first saw Steve at their wedding, but his face tells Steve that he’s heartbroken.

“That death was the only escape?” _Steve watched Bucky jump to his death, hearing himself scream after him._ “You killed me.”

Steve takes Bucky’s hands in his, beginning to cry as well. “I was trying to save you-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Buck. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop Pierce. I’m sorry that I let you go overseas. I’m sorry that I let you die.”

Bucky comes in close to Steve again. “You infected my mind. You _betrayed_ me. But you can make amends. You can still keep your promise.” Bucky says, nodding, trying to convince Steve. “We can still be together..right here. In our world. The world we built together.”

\--

Clint sits down in the corner of the elevator, the MP3 player in one hand, the detonator in the other. He checks his watch, then hits play.

\--

In the antechamber, Thor does his best defending Loki from the projections, using the grenade to get the last remaining few. Outside, Natasha finishes placing explosives all over the complex, then hears the music Clint’s playing for her. She picks off the last few projections she sees, then heads back into the antechamber. By the time she gets in, she checks Thor’s pulse, but he’s gone, the gun he had not even in his hand; he dropped it with the last breath he took before going into Limbo.

She runs from Thor over to Loki and powers up the defibrillator, shocking him.

\--

Tony sees lightning crackling across the sky, even though they’re almost as high as the thunderclouds. He looks back to Bucky, who’s stopped crying, but is holding Steve’s hands like a lifeline. “We need Loki.” Tony says.

Bucky keeps his eyes on Steve, but replies to Tony. “You can’t have him.”

Steve stares at Bucky, mesmerized by him. “If I stay, will you let them go?”

“Steve, what are you saying?” Tony asks.

“Loki’s on the porch.” Bucky says, after a beat.

“Rogers, you can’t do this.” Tony argues, his voice getting louder.

“Go check he’s alive, Tony.” Steve says, still looking at Bucky.

“What?!”

“Go check he’s alive!” Tony moves towards the porch, to find Loki.

\--

Clint’s sitting in the corner of the the elevator, one hand on the bar, and the other on the detonator. He nods his head in time with the music, counting down for the kick. He starts to brace himself. Natasha shocks Loki again.

\--

Tony looks up at the lightning ripping across the sky. He looks down at Loki, who’s bound and bloody, lying below the railing. He looks back into the kitchen, at Steve’s back. “He’s here. And it’s time. But you have to come with us!” Tony yells over the thunder.

“Take Loki. I have to stay.” Steve replies.

“You can’t stay here with him-” Steve turns from Bucky and looks at Tony.

“I’m not. Thor is dead by now. That means he’s here. I have to stay here and find him.” Steve says. Tony removes Loki’s gag and pulls him near the edge. “You good?” He asks. Loki nods, looking tired and scared at the same time.

Steve turns back to Bucky. “I can’t stay here to be with him because he’s not real.”

Bucky becomes furious, taking his hands away from Steve’s. “Not real? I’m the only thing you _do_ believe in anymore.”

Steve looks at him, sadly. He’s finally accepting that Bucky’s gone for sure. That he will be after this job. “I wish you were. But I couldn’t make you real. I’m not capable of imagining you in all your complexity, all your perfection, all your imperfection..As you really were. You’re the best I can do. And you’re not real.”

“Here-does _this_ feel real?!” Bucky stabs Steve in the chest and he starts wheezing like he’s having a asthma attack like in the real world. Steve looks at him, incredulous.  

“No!” Tony yells, shooting Bucky in the chest.

Steve looks back at Tony, who’s pointing the gun Steve gave to him, his eyes wide, since it’s the first time he’s used one before. “What’re you doing?!” Steve yells.

“Improvising.” Tony says, kicking Loki off the porch, and continues to aim at Bucky, who’s putting pressure on his chest and looking at the blood seeping through his shirt.

\--

Loki wakes up in the antechamber, lightning and thunder echoing in his ears. Natasha leans back and pulls the defibrillator from Loki’s chest. “Get in there-quickly!” She says, and Loki staggers to his feet and reaches the double doors, putting a number into the pin pad, and the double doors open. Loki walks into the silent black room, the edges lined with white, like a tile floor. On the farthest wall from the door is a bed. Loki recognizes it quickly, remembering his father in the hospital bed, dying.

\--

Tony aims at Bucky again. “No!” Steve says, holding Tony’s gaze, until he drops the gun, holding on to a pillar as the wind and rain gets stronger. Steve kneels down and puts Bucky’s dying body in his lap.

\--

Natasha moves towards the door of the strongroom, holding the detonator in her hand, watching Loki interact with his father. Hopefully it goes exactly as planned, so Steve doesn’t go to jail for the rest of his life. Up above, Clint hits the detonator, and the explosives on the bottom of the elevator explode, making the elevator move upwards towards the ceiling of the elevator shaft. Clint becomes smashed against the floor next to his sleeping teammates, who shake on the floor with the force of the acceleration.

\--

Loki moves towards the bed, his emotions changing in different moments. He kneels next to the bed, trying to hear what his father is trying to say. “I..was..dis..dis..” He tries to say, his voice hoarse.

Loki sighs and nods, “I know, Dad. You were disappointed that I couldn’t be you.”

Laufey shakes his head with surprising energy. “I was disappointed..that you tried.” Loki hears this and is taken aback, the floor underneath him rumbling.

Behind him, Natasha watches and counts down, getting ready to press the detonator. “Come on, come on.” She whispers. Loki begins to sob, and his father reaches out a trembling hand and Loki tries to hold it, he shakes his hand away, and Loki sees that he’s pointing to the safe next to his bed.

Slowly, Loki’s hand fumbles at the keypad, and pushes the buttons 5,2,8,4,9,1, and the safe opens. Loki sees the will, and on the shelf below is the homemade pinwheel from when he was a kid. He takes it out, marveling about the fact that his father saved it after all this time. He looks back up to his father, but he’s gone. Loki takes his hand and cries. Behind him, Natasha nods and presses the button on the detonator. The entire complex begins to explode, and slide down the mountain, crumbling in on itself.

\--

The wind outside the penthouse gets stronger, and Steve holds Bucky, shielding him. He looks up at Tony. “That’s the kick-you have to go!” Steve yells.

“You’re coming!” Tony replies, his grasp on the pillar becoming loose.

“No, I’m not. I’m staying here to find Thor.” Steve looks down at Bucky. “And to say goodbye.”

“Don’t lose yourself. Find Thor. And bring him back.”

“I will.” Tony lets go, and falls off the edge of the building, opening his eyes to see the antechamber imploding. The floor below him collapses.

The wind begins to die, and Steve holds Bucky in his arms, and the both of them are crying. “You said we’d be together forever. You promised me.” Bucky says, his voice breaking.

“I know. But we can’t. And I’m sorry.” Steve replies.

“There was a woman..a woman with Pierce. I became scared that he would replace me with her.”

“Who was she? Maybe I can make her okay again, up above.”

Bucky nods. “Her name was..” Bucky furrows his brows, trying to think. “Jessica Drew. As talented as I was in dreams. The dreams I hid from you.” Bucky chuckles, then frowns. “I guess we’re even.”

“Pierce is a total jackass, huh?” Steve says, smirking.

They become quiet again, looking at each other. Bucky looks at him. “You remember when you asked me to marry you? You said you dreamt that we’d grow old together.” Steve nods, brushing his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “And we did. Don’t you remember?” Bucky looks up at Steve. _Steve and Bucky had become old, but age doesn’t define love, doesn’t make it lessen. It might even make it more profound. They had walked together through Limbo, towards the train tracks. They laid their heads down on the railroad track, their old hands holding at each other, waiting for a train._

“I miss you more than I can bear..but we had our time together. And now I have to let you go. I have to let you go.” Steve says, giving Bucky a small smile, rubbing the tears off of his cheek. Bucky nods and takes a last look at Steve, and closes his eyes. Steve holds him for a while, kissing his head. Bucky was finally gone. Steve's heart hurt, but he had finally accepted it, that their time together was precious, something nobody else could have together. All Steve had was Bucky’s memory. He still doesn’t know if he’ll be able to live without him still, but that makes him happy, how he’ll never forget his experiences with Bucky, how Bucky was his favorite thing in the entire world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The Real World  
> Plus: [Bucky's shirt](http://captainsmeesh.tumblr.com/post/139090046902/thecaptainsoldier-it-should-be-forbidden-that)


	12. Chapter 12

The van hits the water, waking everyone else besides Steve and Thor, who’s stuck in Limbo. Loki panics as the water rushes in through the windows of the van. He unbuckles himself and grabs Selvig-who still has the sack on his head-out of the river and onto the shore.

Bruce pulls two regulators out from the front seat, the three of them taking in oxygen before they swim upwards. Clint moves toward Thor, who’s blood is seeping into the water. He checks for a pulse, but there isn’t one. He tries to wake Steve, but Tony pulls him away, before they lose too much oxygen.

On the riverbank, Loki and Selvig breathe quickly, exhausted. “I’m sorry, Loki.” Selvig says.

Loki stares at the rain hitting the water. “The will means that Dad wanted me to be my own man, not live for him.” He turns to Selvig. “And I’m going to, Uncle Erik.” Selvig nods. Loki turns to look at Clint and Tony sitting a few feet away from them. In the reflection of the puddle next to Selvig is Natasha, wearing a fitted suit.

Clint wipes the rain from his face, gasping for air. “What happened?” He asks.

“Rogers stayed.” Tony says.

“With Bucky?”

“No. To find Thor.”

Clint looks at the water. “He’ll be lost..”

“No. He’ll be alright.” Tony says, nodding his head.

\--

Steve wakes up, coughing up water as it moves over him as he lays on the beach. He’s smaller again, and has scruff on his face. He’s older. He realizes this, and thinks of Bucky; how much time has passed without him. The Japanese security guard brings him into the castle, and he's given food in the dining room. Across from him, Thor’s there, in his 90’s, his body frail, his voice weak. Next to him is Steve's pistol, sand in the creases, and the spinning top. He watches an older Steve wolf down his food.

“So..have you come to kill me?” Thor asks. Steve doesn’t look up, but stops eating. “I’ve been waiting for someone to come for me..”

“Someone from a half-remembered dream..?”

Thor looks at Steve closely. “Steve? Not possible-he and I were young men together. And I am an old man..”

“Filled with regret?”

Thor nods slowly, remembering. “Waiting to die alone, yes.”

Steve stares at the table, then Thor. “I came back for you..I came to remind you of what you once knew..” Steve gestures at the table, then himself, in his regular body. The small version, the _real_ version. “That this world is not real.” Thor spins the spinning top the security guard gave to him when he brought Steve in from the waves. It spins perfectly; never going to topple. He looks at it for a while, then back at Steve.

“You came to convince me to honor our arrangement?”

“Yes..And to take a leap of faith.” Thor glances at the gun next to him. “Come back. Come back and we’ll be young men together again.” Thor nods.

\--

Steve’s back in the plane, the turbulence jolting him awake. The flight attendant-the woman from earlier-comes up to him with a tray of towels stacked in a pyramid and forms in her hand. “Hot towel, sir?” Steve shakes his head. “We’ll be landing in Los Angeles in about twenty minutes. Do you need immigration forms?” Steve nods.

He looks at Clint, who’s chuckling. They made it. Steve’s _home._ Tony’s slumped in his seat, looking at Steve with a small smile. His eyes reach Thor. Thor’s watching him, confused, trying to place where he is, who these people are, his arrangement with Steve. Thor remembers and picks up the phone and dials. Steve nods as a thank you.

In the airport, Steve’s in line to step towards the immigration official. His heart pounds fast as he walks towards the guy and hands him his passport. He tries to hide how nervous he is, watching the guy flip through his passport, as if this moment is in extreme slow motion. Is he actually on his way home? Or is he still in a dream? Steve gets out of his trance when the official stamps a page of his passport. Steve takes it and puts it in his pocket. Across from him, he sees Tony watching him. He nods, and Steve continues on his way.

Steve grabs his suitcase and exchanges subtle greetings with Natasha and Bruce, then sees Clint smiling at him. Steve knows they'll keep in touch. He'll miss them, but for now he's gotta see his family. He _has_ to. Steve moves towards the arrivals hall, passing Loki, who’s messing around with his phone. Loki looks at Steve for a moment, trying to place Steve as if he should know him, but doesn’t care enough to look closer.

Erskine is waving at him, a huge smile on his face. They hug and continue through the airport to the car that will finally bring Steve home.

***

Steve enters the kitchen of the home he hasn't stepped a foot in for years, and drops his bags. He can finally rest. He looks out at the garden, then has to check that this is real. That all he suffered through was real. That the home he’s in is his. He takes out the spinning top and spins it on the table. Sharon and Becca’s shouts make him look up.

They turn, and scream with joy as they run towards him. Peggy is right behind them. He gives them all hugs, making sure that this is real. “I’ve missed you.” Peggy says. “We all have.”

Steve almost cries. “I’ve missed you guys so much. And now that I’m home, my heart can relax. I get to live my life now.” Steve says, smiling.

"We've built something!" Sharon says, taking his hand to pull him outside into the garden. 

"What'd you build?" Steve asks, smiling bright.

"A house on a cliff!"

Steve, Sharon, Becca, Peggy, and Erskine walk outside and sit together. Steve relaxes, becoming caught in the moment. Trying to make sure this is real without the spinning top. He believes with all of his being that it is.

\--

Back in the kitchen, on the table, the spinning top doesn’t topple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, but here's the thing. I can end the story here, or continue it, since I've already written the chapters. It's up to you guys. Thanks for reading! :)  
> *EDIT: [I totally forgot about this, but it's really funny](http://watchcartoonsonline.eu/watch/south-park-s14-e10-insheeption/)

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations! You made it! There will be more updates soon!  
> [INSP](http://whitelaws.tumblr.com/post/23939965531)  
> Check out my [tumblr](http://captainsmeesh.tumblr.com/)?  
> Next chapter: Steve goes to find a certain Architect, with help from an old friend.


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